One More Time
by silver-etoile
Summary: They broke up a year ago, but Blaise still visits Hermione before any date she goes on. The night was no different but what happened after would change everything. HermioneBlaise
1. One More Time

**Disclaimer**: I solemnly swear that I do not own Harry Potter and/or any other characters used in this fic. They are all property of J.K. Rowling.

A/N: This is kind of AU, as are all Hermione/Blaiser fics since the 7th book was released. There are no spoilers, though. :) Enjoy!

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"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked with an annoyed sigh. She moved around the foot of her bed and to the vanity that stood on the wall across from the door. She sat down in the chair and picked up an eyeliner pencil.

"Still pretending, are we?"

Hermione didn't answer the question. Instead, she put down the eyeliner and picked up a small tube of lipstick, tracing around her lips.

"For the millionth time," she said calmly, her eyes rising in the mirror to lock eyes with the man behind her, "why are you here, Blaise?"

Blaise stood behind her, watching as she fiddled with her hair in the mirror.

"Who is it this time? Some ex-Hufflepuff who finally found the courage to ask you out?"

"What does it matter who it is?" Hermione asked, smoothing down her hair. "We broke up last year. I can date who I want."

"A year, and yet you haven't changed a bit. Still as perfect and innocent as before."

"As I recall, that was your reason for breaking up in the first place," Hermione replied loftily, continuing to ignore his presence in her bedroom. "And yet here you are."

"You like me coming here, don't you?" Blaise asked, his hand resting on the back of her chair. Their eyes met in the mirror and Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"No, I don't," she said coldly, standing up and turning around. "Why aren't you out fucking your latest princess?"

"Why do I need another one? I've already got one."

Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed past him, ignoring the feel of his hard chest against her hands. She walked over to her bed and sat down on it, making sure not to wrinkle the black silk dress she was wearing.

She glanced up at Blaise, who hadn't moved, merely turned around. She sighed. "I don't understand why you always come here," she said. "We broke up. That means we aren't together anymore."

Blaise paused for a moment before moving over to where Hermione sat on the bed. Hermione glanced at him before reaching down for her high heels that sat on the floor.

She slipped them on, ignoring Blaise's presence.

"You look nice, Hermione," Blaise said, his eyes wandering down her body. She was wearing a black dress that flowed around her legs softly, perfect for dancing.

Hermione scowled. "And you shouldn't be looking. What would your mother say if she knew what you were doing instead of taking that Sherry girl out for tea?"

"My mother has better things to do than worry about my sex life," Blaise replied smoothly.

Hermione gave him a withering look and stood up, only to find her way blocked by Blaise's solid body.

"Move," she said sternly, giving him a small push. He didn't move back, and Hermione frowned. "Why must you be so difficult?"

"It's one of my more charming personality traits, wouldn't you say?" he asked with a suave smile.

Hermione scoffed and pushed harder, only to find his hands on her hips. She glared up at him. "Blaise, I'm warning you. Let go of me and leave. You shouldn't be here anyway."

"What will you do, Hermione?" he asked, his voice low and smooth. He took a step forward and she one back.

She frowned. "I have a date coming. He'll be here soon. Why don't you have anything better to do than hang around my flat and try to seduce me?"

Blaise raised a hand and brushed some hair away from Hermione's face. His fingers lingered on her skin, trailing down her neck.

Hermione didn't react. She merely kept her eyes on Blaise, her expression cool. "I need to finish getting ready. Now, go home."

He didn't leave. Instead, he took another step back and Hermione stumbled. "Blaise!" she exclaimed, frustrated.

"I'm sure the Hufflepuff won't mind waiting a moment," Blaise said, bringing his mouth to her ear, his hand sliding down her thigh and tugging the light fabric of her dress up a bit.

Hermione's hand stopped his before he got far, though. Her glare was cold as she pulled away from him and looked at him. "He won't be waiting because you're leaving."

Blaise looked thoughtful for a moment, then took one more step and the back of Hermione's legs hit the bed and she fell back onto it with a soft flump. She merely glared up at him, annoyed by his actions.

This happened every time. Hermione didn't know how he managed to be there every time she had a date, but he did. He would miraculously show up a few hours before the date, Apparating into her living room. She kept reminding herself to put up wards but somehow she always forgot.

He would show up, down talk her date, make fun of whoever it was. She had stopped telling him who it was each time. She wondered why he did this. They had broken up. He had broken up with her, not the other way around.

Yet he was always there, distracting her before her date.

She sat on the bed glaring up at him. Her eyebrows came together as she observed the glint in his eye and the smirk tugging the corner of his mouth.

"Blaise, I don't have time for this," Hermione said angrily, pushing herself up and resting on her elbows. She needed to get ready.

"You always make time," Blaise said, smirking. He moved forward onto the bed, while Hermione scooted backwards. He moved forward and grabbed her hip, preventing her from moving back any further. A few more inches and he was straddling her thighs.

She was still propped up on her elbows, her expression withering. She knew what was going to happen; the same thing that always did. She didn't know why she couldn't stop it. She tried, really, she did, but he had some way of persuading her no matter what she wanted.

"What's a date without a little celebration?" Blaise's voice was in her ear, low and seductive. His warm breath ghosted over her neck and Hermione was concentrating hard on not giving in, though she knew it was inevitable. She restrained the urge to tilt her neck to his mouth.

"A date," she replied coldly, attempting her best frosty tone, knowing it would be no use to deter him.

She felt his hands at the hem of her dress, sliding it up slowly. She sighed. She was disappointed in herself. She never tried hard enough. But it wasn't as though it was bad; it was just unhealthy in the way of relationships.

She felt Blaise's mouth against her neck, felt him breathing in her scent. His hands were sliding higher and faster now, pushing up her dress. She fell back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Seconds later, Blaise was up by her face, looking down at her.

"Why so sad, my pet?" he whispered, leaning in and brushing his lips against her jaw.

"Every time, Blaise," Hermione replied. "And I'm not your pet."

Blaise smirked, his hands shoving her dress up all the way, exposing her knickers. "You certainly act like it."

Hermione's eyes flashed and she raised a hand to smack Blaise, only to have it caught just before it hit his cheek. She glared at him as he forced her hand back to the bed.

"You always did like it rough," he said, his eyes glinting and his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He slid his body forward, straddling her legs. A hand was gliding up her inner thigh, sliding over her skin up to her pelvis. He traced the outline of it before slipping a finger teasingly under the waistband of her black knickers.

Despite the anger Hermione felt at his inference, she couldn't help the flutter that ran through her stomach as his hand had drifted over her abdomen. It was always like this. She shifted uncomfortably, knowing it was turning her on. She wanted to be able to refuse this but there was something about Blaise that made it hard.

His mouth was back by her ear. She shivered as she felt his tongue running along the edge of it. "Do you have time now?"

She shut her eyes for a second, knowing he was in control. He knew just what to do to shatter her resolve. She gasped as his finger slipped past the waistband of her knickers. She felt him bite down on her earlobe, waiting for her response.

"Never did," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady, but failing as it came out stuttered from her shortness of breath. She swallowed hard, feeling his lips on her neck, licking and biting; leaving marks that she would be forced to glamour later.

Blaise pressed a kiss to Hermione's pulse, leaving a lick there before moving up to her jaw. He could hear her increased breath in his ear and the sound of it merely made his cock jump, straining against his trousers already.

His free hand slid up into Hermione's hair, grabbing a fistful and forcing her head back. He ignored the tiny noise of pain she gave and moved up. He kissed her hard and fast, without giving her a chance to resist again.

Her mouth opened easily to his, inviting his tongue inside. Their lips slid together sinuously, a hot interchange of tongues. Hermione bit down on Blaise's lower lip as they kissed, drawing a sharp gasp from him. She arched her body into his, knowing he was hard and that he wanted it.

His hand in between her legs had slipped. It was now at her hip and he used it to pull her closer. It grazed her thigh and traveled up her side, sliding over the silk fabric of her dress.

He let go of her hair but didn't stop kissing her. Instead, his hands moved down to his trousers, pulling down the zipper and shoving them off.

Hermione's hands were on his waist, sliding under his shirt and along his tan, muscled backside. Once his pants were off, her legs wrapped around his waist as he moved forward. He spelled off his boxers and gasped as the cold air of Hermione's apartment hit his erection.

He leaned forward, kissing her again, his mouth sliding against hers, so hot and wet. He slid seductively down her body, biting down on her neck, loving the way she gasped as he did so.

His fingers were gliding over her inner thighs once more, inching closer to her undergarments. Hermione gasped as they were ripped off unceremoniously. Blaise had always been rather rough when it came to undressing.

"Blaise," she gasped as plunged a finger into her body, her back arching off the bed. He slowed down a bit, sliding in a second with the first. He slid them in and out, watching her face closely.

Hermione was in torture. His fingers slid inside her body so slowly, searching for the right spot. When he hit it, her body shook. She swallowed hard and lifted her head slightly to be able to see him. He was watching her with intense concentration, his eyes locked on hers.

"Fuck," she cursed breathlessly as her head fell back on the bed and she felt his finger move again.

Blaise pulled back, watching her flushed face, listening to her harsh breaths. He could feel the blood pounding in his cock. He wanted her badly and knew he was going to get her. It always happened like this. She would resist for a while but inevitably give in to his charms. He knew she wanted it too, though. She wouldn't let him if there wasn't something there. He knew she was strong and wouldn't give in unless she wanted to.

He paused a second before grabbing his wand and performing a standard protection charm. Then he grabbed a tube of lube that he had left in Hermione's bedside table months ago when this had turned into a ritual thing.

He took off the cap and made to take some out but was surprised to find Hermione's hand curled around his wrist. He glanced up to find her face inches from his. Her eyebrow was raised challengingly and she tilted her mouth to his as her hand removed the lube from his hand.

He could feel her hot breath on his lips as he stared into her eyes. Her lips parted as she held his gaze, her hand moving unseen to him.

Blaise paused before closing the gap, taking her lips in a rough kiss which she returned in full force. His hand pushed her hair back from her face as they kissed. The kiss was rough and hard, lips sliding together, teeth clashing, biting.

Blaise broke away with a groan as he felt Hermione's hand on his cock, spreading the lubricant over it. Her hand slid over his pulsing erection, giving a light twist that sent a shiver through his body.

"Devil," he whispered against her lips. She merely smirked and continued to smear his cock with lube.

When she finished, she raised her hand to his cheek, swiping a thumb across his beautiful high cheek bone. She didn't get much further, though, as his hand wrapped around her wrist, forcing it down as he kissed her again.

He leaned his body forward, pressing her back against the bed and shifting forward. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and her breaths were short.

Blaise took a moment to position himself, pressing his cock slowly into her body. He bit his lip as he pressed in harder, sliding in until he was completely encased by her body. He could feel the heat encompassing his cock as he paused, catching his breath before moving any further.

Slowly, he began to move, thrusting carefully, watching Hermione closely. Her eyes were shut and her body moved with his, arching upward with every thrust. His cock slid into her body, sending shivers up her spine every time.

Her breath was stilted and coming in short gasps. Her hand was wrapped around his forearm as it braced him on either side of her. She was gripping tightly enough to leave marks there later. He didn't mind, though, he never did.

He gave a particularly violent thrust, causing her to cry out. Her body was contracting around his cock and he bit his lip to hold on. He slid into her body, rocking back and forth.

"Blaise," Hermione gasped, "you're so—I—"

He ignored her, leaning forward as he moved inside her and kissing her harshly, possessively. Tongues battled for dominance and Blaise finally won, sliding his tongue into her mouth and tasting all she was. When he pulled away, they were both out of breath and gasping for air.

Blaise groaned and shut his eyes as he rocked forward, thrusting his cock deeper inside her body. He could feel the prickling sensation filling his body as he came upon his climax. It filled his body with the irrepressible need for release.

Hermione knew he was close and could feel herself getting there as well. She moved her hips with his as he slammed into her body at a pace much faster than usual. Hermione felt like she was surrounded by fire as he moved. The heat licked at her body, sending shivers through her body.

She was out of breath as Blaise continued to thrust his cock deeper within her. Her grip on his arm was so tight it was cutting off the circulation to his hand, but Blaise didn't care. She could do whatever she wanted to him as long as he got the release he was so desperately craving.

Her body arched as she felt the explosion in her body. Only Blaise could make her do this, send this wave of fire through her veins, shoot her so high into the clouds she was always dizzy afterwards.

Blaise knew she was orgasming and couldn't hold on any longer, feeling the wonderful feeling of release as he came inside her body. His body was shuddering as the feeling of completion took over him. He continued thrusting, wanting to ride out the feeling as long as possible.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Hermione's lower lip, his teeth scraping along it. Another kiss to her jaw and he was collapsing on the bed, out of breath and sated.

Hermione came back to Earth slowly, closing her eyes for a moment and enjoying the afterglow. She breathed in deeply, waiting as her breath slowly returned to normal.

When she opened her eyes, she sat up. Glancing at the clock, she cursed. "Shit. He's going to be here in—"

She cut herself off as a knock sounded at the door. Beside her, Blaise sat up also, looking completely unconcerned. He glanced at her and tilted his head to the side.

"Your lipstick is messy, my pet," he said, leaning in to give her a kiss, but she jerked away before he had the chance.

She scrambled off the bed, grabbing her wand and setting a Cleansing Spell to make sure there was no evidence of their activities.

There was another knock at the door and she looked flustered. "Just a moment!" she called. She hurried to the vanity and quickly dabbed at her lipstick, retouching it. It was, in fact, ruined, no thanks to Blaise. She fixed it quickly and turned to Blaise, who had redressed.

"You need to get out," she said, while moving to her dresser and pulling out a new pair of knickers that she pulled on under her dress. She pointed her wand at her hair and it restyled itself into what it had been before.

Blaise stood up slowly and walked to her, placing his hands on her shoulders as she stood in the mirror, putting in earrings. She didn't stop, but flipped back her hair and reached for a necklace.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her neck. "See you on your next date."

Before Hermione had raised her eyes to his, he was gone. She shook her head and put on the necklace. Then she slipped on her shoes that had fallen to the floor earlier. She trotted into the living room, grabbing her purse off the coffee table, and opened the door.

"Hello," she said pleasantly, if not a little out of breath, to the man there. "Shall we?"

And without a glance back, she left the apartment, locking the door behind her.

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A/N: Please review! There's more to come :) 


	2. Unwanted Surprises

The sunlight fell through the light curtains over the living room windows. The window was open a breeze fluttered the curtains, rushing into the small space and rustling the yellow roses that stood in a vase on the coffee table.

On the aqua-colored sofa, Hermione sat motionless, a piece of paper crumpled in her hand. She didn't move as the breeze circled around her, blowing her hair across her face. Instead, she just stared at the floor.

She'd been sitting there for just under an hour, not moving. She had heard the neighbor moving in some loud piece of furniture, dropping it presumably on his foot, and the cursing that had followed. She had heard the Muggle mailman slip the post through the door. It was still lying on the doormat, waiting to be picked up.

She hadn't moved, though. She was still in her business clothes; a grey skirt, white blouse, and black high heels. Her hair was pulled back into a loose knot and strands were slowly coming undone, but she did nothing to stop them.

The paper was clenched in her fist, not out of anger, but something else. Her eyes were fixed on the dark blue carpet and didn't flinch as the sound of someone Apparating into her apartment came.

Blaise wasn't pleased. He'd been in the middle of a luncheon with Jenna, his latest set-up from his mother. She had been tall, blond, and leggy. He'd been hoping to get much more than a lunch-date from this. His mother had never been good at selecting women, but Blaise managed to work it to his advantage.

"This had better be important," Blaise said, annoyed, striding into the living room. "Jenna was certainly ditzy enough, but she would have been good enough for something."

"Jenna, is it now?" Hermione's words were flat, as if she was only attempting to form coherent words.

Blaise sighed. "Yes, next in line of possible Zabini heirs. She's got all the qualifications; gold-digging whore with an amazing rack."

Hermione made a noise somewhere between a snort and humph. Blaise glanced at her and paused. His eyes took in the way she was sitting and how she hadn't looked at him this entire time.

"Why did you call me? She could have been well on her way to my house by now."

Hermione didn't reply right away. Instead, she sighed and her fist closed tighter around the paper.

"I need to ask you something." Her words were stilted and aroused Blaise's suspicions.

He moved closer, walking around the couch. Still, Hermione didn't look at him, or even raise her head. "Yes?" he inquired, keeping a close watch on her.

Slowly, Hermione raised her head. Her expression was guarded. "Why do you always come here when I have dates?"

"You always ask and it's always the same answer," Blaise replied promptly. "Sex. It's the one thing we did well together."

"But we broke up," Hermione said, her tone losing some of its neutrality.

"And we still are good at sex."

"No!" Hermione exclaimed. Blaise was a bit surprised but said nothing. "We broke up. For most normal people that means they don't see each other. They move on, date other people."

"We do date other people."

"It's not the same!" Hermione was staring at him now, her eyes angry. "You shouldn't come here. You shouldn't want to still have sex with me. It's not normal!"

"Have we ever been normal?" Blaise drawled. He didn't understand why all of a sudden she was getting so upset.

"I was," Hermione said angrily. "I used to be."

"People change, Hermione. What's the fun of being normal? If I was normal, I'd never be able to have as much fun as I do now." He paused, eyeing her. "Now, if that's all, I may be able to scrape an after-lunch drink with Jenna."

He sighed, wondering why he bothered wasting his time in the first place.

He was only a few steps past the couch when he heard Hermione mumble something. He stopped, turning back to her.

"What was that?"

"I'm pregnant."

Blaise froze. "What? How?!"

"You want me to explain it to you? Well, when a man and a woman—"

"No!" Blaise interrupted her. He could tell she was being sarcastic by the angry glint in her eye. "Are you serious?"

Hermione stood up and walked over to him. She handed him the crumpled piece of paper that was almost illegible. He opened it and read it through.

"I went to the doctor yesterday," Hermione said stiffly. "They sent the owl this morning. I'm pregnant."

"But, you can't—It's not possible," Blaise said, flustered. His eyes scanned the letter again, taking in the doctor's congratulations and news of the baby. He found the note snatched from his hands moments later by an enraged Hermione.

"Oh, it's possible," she growled. "And it's all your fault, too!"

"My fault?!" Blaise repeated, staring at her. "How is this my fault?"

"You come here every time!" she shrieked. "You and I, we—you know! And all because you think sex is all I have for you."

"It's not like you've ever stopped me!" Blaise retorted. He was still in shock at the news, but he knew he couldn't let her blame him.

"Like I have a chance," Hermione sneered. "You always get what you want, Blaise, and you don't listen to anyone else. You're too stubborn."

"I'm stubborn?!" Blaise repeated. "Talk about calling the kettle black. You have got to be the most stubborn person I've ever met!"

Hermione glared at him, her arms crossed over her stomach. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this angry with someone. She couldn't believe she was pregnant, and with Blaise Zabini's child. Of all people, why did it have to be him?

Blaise seemed to be thinking along these same lines because his expression turned suddenly suspicious as he looked at her.

"How do you know that it's mine anyway?" he demanded. "You've been on plenty of dates with low-class men since we broke up."

"Are you inferring that I'm a slut?" Hermione asked, her tone dangerous.

"If the shoe fits," Blaise replied loftily.

Hermione's eyes flashed. "I'll have you know that I have not slept with any of the men I've been on dates with."

"Bit of a prude, are we?"

Hermione made a strangled noise and her hand twitched for her wand. "You are the most infuriating man I have ever met! And you're such a hypocrite!"

"How's that?" Blaise drawled, crossing his arms defensively.

"You broke up with me because, and I quote, 'you're too young and innocent for me. I need someone with more experience. You don't know how to let go, have fun.' And yet, you come back to me every other week! Don't see the contradiction? If I was a prude, do you dare expect that I would have let this continue?"

Hermione's glare was intense as she stared him down. To say that she was angry would have been a gross understatement. She could feel the rage coursing through her veins as she glared at the man who had changed her life completely.

Before she had known Blaise Zabini, she had been perfectly happy thinking that someday she would grow up and probably marry Ron. She had been content hanging around with Harry and Ron and helping them with their various problems.

But then, he had stepped into her life. He had been quiet and mysterious. All the girls had come to notice him their last year at Hogwarts. He was the subject of most discussions when it came to boys.

Hermione had ignored them for the most part. By then she was dating Ron and she was as happy as she thought she could be.

Ron and she hadn't lasted, though. She supposed she should have known their personalities weren't truly compatible. They'd both moved on and Hermione went to date other people, only to find Blaise there.

Their initial courtship had been quick, a few dates over coffee before they were stumbling into bed in the middle of the day. Their relationship had been for the most part sexual, though Hermione had to admit she greatly admired his intellect when he cared to apply it.

They had dated for five months. Hermione had met his mother, whom she found to be a self-centered, vain woman. The woman was only concerned with her looks and the future of the Zabini name. Hermione had received a cold welcome and it had never really changed.

After five months, Blaise had called it off, citing that she was too innocent. Hermione wasn't sure if she really believed that reason, but she'd had no evidence to the contrary.

She had been shocked to find him in her apartment before her first date with another man. She had been even more shocked to find out why he was there.

She knew she should have stopped it then, but at the time, she had still been attached to him. Since then, it simply continued until something inevitable had happened.

It had been three weeks since Blaise's last "visit". Hermione had been feeling a bit off for about a week and since it hadn't gone away, decided the day before to visit the doctor.

They had taken some tests and told her she would get the owl the next day. The owl had come at noon that day. It had simply swooped in, dropped the letter on the table and taken off again. Hermione guessed this should have been a sign.

She had been completely unprepared for what the letter said. She couldn't believe she was pregnant. This was not supposed to happen, not until she was married and living in a house far away from the city, not until she was steady and prepared.

She had a steady job now. She worked at the Ministry as a Magical Law Enforcer. She didn't work out in the field much, but instead was training to become a judge. Since the demise of Voldemort, the Ministry had switched over to a fairer type of trial other than the Wizengamot.

Hermione sighed. She didn't know what to do. She had absolutely no idea. This was not part of her plan.

"Look," she said, willing herself calm. "There's nothing we can do to change this. So we have to decide what we're going to do."

"Do?" Blaise said. "I don't know about you, but this isn't exactly how I pictured the day I would become a father."

"You think I wanted it this way? We're not even dating! What are people going to think?! What are they going to say?! What are we going to do, Blaise?!"

"I don't know!" he exclaimed, losing any cool he might have still had. "I'm not ready for this."

"Well, you better get ready! We've only got nine months to figure this out."

"Why do I have to figure anything out?"

"Because it's your fault!" Hermione yelled. "_You_ came here. _You_ wanted to have sex. _You_ are the one who started this all! I was happy to just let it go. We _broke up_. That was supposed to be it! That was it! I was done. We were done. But no, you can't keep it in your pants even to wait for the next slut to let you in her skirt. It's not my fault you have no self-control."

Blaise's eyes narrowed but he didn't say anything for a moment. "I didn't force you to sleep with me. I have self-control. Maybe there's another reason, did you ever think of that? And why should I bother to help with this? You have everything under control, don't you? Nothing is ever out of place when Hermione is around. Well, I can't fucking control everything like you can, so you can figure this out on your own!"

"I think I'm going to be sick," Hermione muttered.

"Morning sickness?" Blaise asked darkly.

Hermione glared up at him. "No."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Well, you let me know when you've got it all figured out," he said, turning and walking away.

Hermione's eyes widened. "You can't just leave!"

"I need some time," Blaise replied, not looking back as he wrenched open the door.

"Time?!" Hermione exclaimed as she went after him. "We don't have time. Nine months, that's it. What are we going to do?!"

"I'm sure you'll figure out something. You were the brightest witch of our age, after all." And with that condescending remark, Blaise disappeared down the hallway.

Hermione stared after him, her mouth hanging open slightly. She only looked around when a neighbor's door opened and they gave her an odd look.

She forced a smile. "Sorry." She waited until they shut the door again before the smile fell. She sighed deeply and went back into her apartment, the door clicking shut behind her.

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A/N: Thanks for reading! And please review! 


	3. What's A Boy to Do?

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Blaise stomped up the walk to his house, ignoring the paper that was dropped on his doorstep. He unlocked the door and went inside, throwing his coat over a chair by the door. He would pick it up later. 

He sighed as he went through the living room and into the kitchen. He opened the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. After pouring himself a liberal amount, he took and drink and set it down on the counter with a small clink. He hung his head and looked at his shoes for a moment.

When he'd gotten Hermione's Owl at lunch, he could never have imagined this was what had been so important. He had left Jenna, though reluctantly. Even if she wasn't the smartest girl, she would have her uses.

He had broken up with Hermione a year ago under the pretense that she wasn't up to his standards. This was untrue. She wasn't up to his mother's standards. Isabella Zabini had never directly said she didn't like Hermione, but the signs had all been there.

Blaise sighed again and set down his drink. He glanced out the window where the gardener was pottering around in the rose bushes, pruning and cutting a few to bring inside. It was a nice sunny spring day. It shouldn't be ruined by the dark cloud that was hovering over his head, ready to pour at any moment.

He stared out the window at the garden and then closer to the sparkling swimming pool that sat just beyond the open patio. Blaise decided that he needed some time to think, so he grabbed his glass and headed outside.

He plunked down in one of the black metal chairs covered with some flowery material and cushions his mother had smuggled into his house. For the most part, he'd kept her out of the decorating but she'd managed to sneak the chairs onto the patio and he hadn't bothered to get rid of them.

He poured himself another glass of alcohol and sipped it slowly, closing his eyes and trying to imagine that Hermione had not just told him she was pregnant.

She couldn't be pregnant. It just wouldn't work. They weren't a couple and he doubted very much anyone would approve. She had Potter and Weasley as her guard dogs. He could just imagine what they would do once they found out.

That brought another thought to his mind: who was she going to tell and when? He hadn't asked her. He'd been a little preoccupied to think rationally when he'd seen her. Who would they tell and how?

Most people were aware that they had dated and were equally aware that they had broken up on less-than-friendly terms. Of course, no one knew of their continued interactions, that were in fact fully orchestrated by Blaise, no matter how much he would deny it.

Blaise was sitting in the warm sun, rubbing his temples soothingly, trying to make any sense of what had happened in the last hour, when he heard a voice.

"Blaise!" a tinkling voice called. "Darling, are you home!"

"In here," Blaise called back, though not quite as energetically. It was his mother.

Isabella Zabini walked out of the house and onto the patio, her gold earrings glinting in the sun as she walked. She was wearing a nice set of deep blue robes that were a bit tighter than strictly necessary. Her high heels clicked on the stone floor as she moved to the table Blaise was sitting at. She placed herself delicately in a chair and smiled at her son.

"Blaise, darling, what are you doing home? Shouldn't you still be with Ms. Spencer? She's a lovely girl, don't you agree?"

"Yes, lovely," Blaise agreed, his voice none-too excited. "I was called away in the middle for some… ah, business that needed attending to."

Isabella frowned, tiny wrinkles creasing her otherwise smooth face. "I don't understand why you feel the need to work, dear. We are perfectly well-off."

"Speaking of," Blaise said, shifting in his chair, "when's the funeral for number… nine, is it?"

"Ten," Isabella corrected him. "But what's a number? My darling Blaise, you should stop this ridiculous charade and quit that disgraceful thing you call a job. Settle down and get married. I think Jenna is a perfect match. You know her family is the owner of several clothing chains in Britain?"

"Yes, mother, I know," Blaise sighed. This seemed to be the channel all their conversations took; his mother urging him to quit his job and get married.

Blaise worked for a reason. He knew he didn't have to work and he could spend all his time lounging on beaches in the south of France, but he didn't want to. He'd rather have something to distract him from the things missing in his life.

Blaise worked as a reporter for the Daily Prophet. This gave him the ability to have a flexible schedule and share his dry wit with the public. He had a large fan following but for the most part paid them no attention.

"Just think how lovely your children will be," Isabella continued, and Blaise stiffened at the mention of children. "With her beautiful complexion and your eyes, your children will be absolutely darling!"

"I think it's a bit early for that, mother," Blaise said quickly. It was best to cut his mother off before she got to planning the wedding.

Isabella sighed and looked at her son. He was gazing across the grounds, looking unfocused.

"But, darling, you're nearly twenty-five years old. You must begin thinking about this."

"In this century, it's not uncommon for men to wait until they're thirty, mother, heaven forbid," Blaise drawled sarcastically.

"You may mock me," Isabella replied, "but it's best to get a firm hold early on."

"Firm hold on what? You said it yourself. I'm perfectly well-off on my own. Why would I want a wife?"

Isabella frowned again, her eyebrows creasing. She raised a hand and swept her long dark hair over her shoulder. She tilted her head upward, showing off the aristocratic cheek bones that Blaise had inherited.

Blaise sighed internally as he saw her take a familiar stance. It was one of imperialism and power. He'd seen her use it many times on his numerous step-fathers. She was reaching to their background of Italian royalty.

"Blaise," she said calmly, though sternly, "the Zabini name is very important. It must be passed on to the next generation. They must know what bloodline they come from; a line of pureblooded wizards, kings and queens for many years. It is your duty as the last male heir to choose a suitable wife and continue the line."

Blaise merely looked bored. He'd heard this speech many times while growing up, even more so recently since he had gotten together, and broken up, with Hermione. Isabella seemed bent on finding the perfect wife for his son since their break-up.

She had set him up with numerous women, each as vapid as the last. They were progressively blonder and stupider. Jenna was just one of the many that Blaise would humor his mother with for a time before throwing her back, knowing he would soon have another trophy on his arm to show off for a week or two.

"I am well-aware of what my responsibility is, mother," Blaise drawled, bored. He knew he wouldn't get in trouble for his tone of voice. He had always been a spoiled child and his mother had never discouraged his attitude other than showing a certain amount of respect to her.

"You need to act more like it, darling," Isabella said, her voice softening. "A few more years and all the good ones will be taken."

"You mean all the ones smart enough to not marry young?"

"Have some manners," Isabella reprimanded him half-heartedly. "I'm simply suggesting that it would be a smart idea to get someone now."

"And I'm allowed to pick?" Blaise asked, his expression doubtful.

"Of course you are allowed to pick, darling!" Isabella said. "She's going to be your wife, after all. You must feel something for her."

"What if you don't care for her?"

"Don't be silly," she said. "I would like anyone you chose."

Blaise said nothing, thinking back to an hour ago when Hermione had told him that fateful news. He knew his mother wouldn't be pleased, even if she did say she approved of whatever he did. A child out of wedlock and with a Muggleborn would definitely be frowned upon. It was not conducive to upholding the family name.

"Are you going to Owl Jenna? I'm sure she would enjoy a meeting for a drink to make up for running out on her early," Isabella suggested.

"Hmm?" Blaise asked, coming out of thoughts of Hermione and just what was going to happen.

"Jenna, another date. Are you listening, sweetie? You seem a bit distracted."

"Oh, yes, I—it's just been rather hectic at work lately with the new Minister being inducted," Blaise said, taking another sip of his drink. "But of course, I'll Owl her right away."

Isabella smiled lovingly at her son. "I must be going," she said, standing up, as did Blaise out of many years of manners ground into his brain. "Remember what I said, darling. It's never too early to start thinking about the future." She turned to go back into the house, but paused at the doorway. "Oh, that reminds me. The funeral is on Saturday at ten. A spread will be served after at the Manor. Do wear something nice; Robert had several nieces."

Blaise didn't bother replying, simply sent his mother a forced smile and watched as she disappeared into the house.

Once she was gone, he sighed deeply and set his elbow on the table, rested his head in his hand, and closed his eyes. He had some thinking to do and he didn't even know how to start.

OoOoO

Hermione shut the door and retreated into her flat, hoping the neighbors hadn't heard too much of the fight she and Blaise had just had. She sank down on the couch and faced the blank television.

The news had been a shock, to say the least. She was always careful, always made sure they use protection, took a potion every month to prevent such things. She was always prepared. She had never imagined it wouldn't work.

What was she going to do? Hermione knew this news was not going to be easy to break. Anyone she might tell would likely overreact and demand to know who. It would be very difficult to explain that her ex-boyfriend was the father; her ex-boyfriend whom she supposedly hadn't seen since the break-up…

She had not told any of her friends about Blaise's continued visits. At first, she had thought it was a one-time thing, but when it had continued, she had kept it to herself, partially out of embarrassment.

Harry and Ron had no idea. She saw Harry daily at work and they all got together every two weeks for a regular lunch. She was ashamed to admit that she let Blaise come back into her life at least once a month. She was supposed to be stronger than that.

When they had broken up, Harry and Ron had been overly supportive. Never ones to favor a Slytherin, they hadn't approved from the start, and were only too willing to enumerate his bad points once they broke up.

Hermione knew they were simply overprotective of her and so had never paid them much attention, until now, that is. She glanced down at her stomach that was as flat as it usually was. She couldn't imagine having a baby in there, knowing that in nine months she would have a child.

She simply wasn't ready. She'd always thought that when she had a child, she would be happily married and settled down. She would have a loving husband and they would have planned it out. She had never thought that she would be having an illegitimate child with the man who had broken her heart a year ago.

Hermione sighed and rubbed her face slowly, trying to think rationally. She needed to figure out what to do and quickly. Even if she wasn't showing yet, it would be difficult to hide.

First, she needed to decide what to do with the baby. Should she keep it or put it up for adoption? Her first response was to adopt it out to a suitable family. Surely that would be a more rational decision? A family who wanted a child would be much happier than she would be with a baby.

The more she thought about it, though, the less she liked the idea. How could she give up her child to a family she had never met? To someone whom she didn't know? As unexpected as this had been, she couldn't deny that she had always wanted a child.

Sure, she had expected to have it with someone she loved and who loved her back, but you can't have everything in life.

Hermione stared at her hands, thinking hard. She reached for her wand and conjured a glass of water. She watched it appear on her coffee table and then just stared at it.

She was a witch. She wasn't supposed to have problems like these. Why couldn't magic solve it? It solved so many other things.

She was only twenty-four years old. She had the rest of her life ahead of her, a great career in the works. She was in the middle of her training to become a witch judge. What would happen if they found out? She knew witches who had become pregnant in the Ministry and never came back. They said they were too happy just being mothers and work had no appeal for them anymore.

Hermione didn't want to be like that. Her work was important to her. She wanted to help people, do something worthwhile for the wizarding world. How was having a baby a worthwhile contribution to the world?

Hermione picked up her glass of water and took a sip. The whole situation made her wish it was alcohol but she knew that was a bad idea.

She looked at her hand holding the glass and realized it was shaking. Carefully, she put down the glass and clasped her hands together in her lap. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes momentarily.

If she was going to keep this baby, what was she going to do? Did she want Blaise involved at all?

She thought back to his reaction earlier and scowled. He had acted completely out of character. He hadn't been his usual calm self. He had been panicked and irrational. If they were anything, they were rational thinkers, except when it came to each other.

He had lashed out at her like she'd only seen him do once, and then she hadn't seen him until he showed up the night of her first new date.

She didn't know what to do. She didn't think she could raise a baby alone; getting up in the middle of the night, staying up rocking the baby to sleep, listening to it cry all night long. She just couldn't do it.

A choked sound issued from her throat and she pressed a hand to her mouth, feeling the beginnings of tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She swallowed slowly, willing herself not to cry. She didn't want to be one of those women who cried at every little thing during their pregnancy. But then, she wasn't like all those women.

She gave a quiet sob as a tear trickled down her cheek and fell to the floor, absorbing into the carpet. She had no idea what to do and there was no one to turn to.

She couldn't tell Ron or Harry. They would kill Blaise and that would do no good. She couldn't tell her parents. They would be horrified and disappointed in her.

The only person she could turn to was Blaise, and he was not exactly her best confidant at the moment.

Sitting in her empty living room, Hermione felt lost and alone, getting ready to face one of the biggest things in her life, and there was no one to help.

_

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A/N: Uh, I failed at homework, so fanfiction! Please review!


	4. Whatever It Takes

Hermione sat at her desk, a stack of papers in one hand and a glass of water in the other. She was staring at the papers but her eyes weren't moving. She'd been looking at the same spot on the parchment for the past ten minutes.

_Mr. Gunders is accused of breaking into Gringotts bank and stealing some valuable jewels held in vault number 243, the contents of which follow: a diamond heart necklace, children's earrings, diamond and ruby bracelet all of which belong to Ms. Annabelle Gagnon…_

Hermione shook her head as she reread the same sentence for the 12th time. She hadn't been able to concentrate lately. Every day at work she would arrive and take the papers out of her inbox, preparing to work but oftentimes she would find herself distracted.

She took a breath and attempted to focus on the passage in front of her, but found her mind wandering again.

_Stealing… heart_ She had been thinking a lot about Blaise lately. She hadn't heard from him in over a week and a half. She didn't know what she was supposed to be expecting, but she was growing anxious over his lack of contact.

_Valuable…_ She had been trying to figure out what to do about the whole situation. She hadn't told anyone yet. She was afraid of what their reactions would be and what they would say.

She was the smart girl who would never in a million years do something as stupid as get pregnant. She hated to think what people were going to assume about her. It was bad enough just getting pregnant but then having to say that Blaise Zabini was the father… Blaise was very well-known in the wizarding world, if not only for his name, but also for his many by lines in the Daily Prophet that garnered much praise of his talents. There was always constant speculation in the wizard tabloids about his playboy attitude and his many conquests.

When they had first gotten together, Hermione and Blaise, she had been shocked at the amount of press it had earned. Every other day was a new article speculating about their relationship; why he was with her, what the family thought, if it was a prudent match.

The press had died down after a while, and Hermione had learned to live with it. She found it similar to dealing with Rita Skeeter. Simply ignoring the reporters and refusing to answer their questions did much more good than trying to avoid them.

Blaise had always taken everything in stride. He was used to reporters wanting to know about the girls he dated. He kept as much private as he could. He worked in a newsroom, after all, and had some control over what was published about him.

For the most part, news about his social life was kept down, usually taken over by something Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy had done. Blaise was often glad that there were other less interesting people to take the limelight.

After they had broken up, Hermione had stopped reading the Daily Prophet. Luckily, the news of their split had not been first page news. She had a suspicion that Blaise had something to do with that. But ever since then, little articles about Blaise's new girls seemed to be slipped in among the real news.

Hermione always wondered why there weren't more important things to report on rather than someone's insignificant love-life. She had stopped getting the paper, instead listening to the Wizard's Wireless for the news. She found it much more relaxing.

Hermione sighed to herself as she shook the paper in front of her, attempting to bring her attention back to her work. She found herself getting more easily distracted with each passing day.

She needed to focus or someone might get suspicious. She wondered just how long she could hide this before people began to notice. She figured once she started showing it would be pretty obvious what was going on.

She intended to tell people as soon as she got it all figured out. The problem was that she had no idea how to even begin figuring it out.

Hermione sighed again and set down the paper, knowing it was no use to try and concentrate.

She looked up as a knock sounded on her door. She hastily pushed her hair back, hoping she didn't look suspicious at all.

"Come in," she called, sitting up straight in her chair and placing her hands on the desk.

The door was pushed open and a man poked his head in the door. Hermione smiled, feeling a little relieved.

"Hi, Harry," she said, unclasping her hands and setting them on her lap.

Harry grinned and came in the room fully, shutting the door behind him. "Hey, Hermione, I was just passing by and I thought I'd say hello."

"Sit," Hermione said, offering the chair in front of her desk. Harry took the seat. "What have you been up to lately? I heard there was some trouble in Azkaban last week?"

Harry shrugged. "Just someone trying to escape. Nothing special. What about you? I haven't seen you in a while. You canceled lunch on me and Ron last week. Were you sick?"

Hermione paused, forcing her mouth into a smile. "Of course not, I just had a lot of work to do and I didn't have a lot of time."

Harry nodded. "I know what you mean. Work is certainly taxing, isn't it? I can't believe all the things I have to do." He paused, tilting his head to the side and looking at Hermione. "Are you sure you're feeling okay? You look kind of tired. Maybe you should take the day off."

"I'm fine, Harry, really," Hermione assured him, smiling. She tucked her hair behind her ear and stood up from her chair. "It's just a big case load and all the training does take up a lot of time." She walked over to a filing cabinet and began rummaging through it, hoping Harry wouldn't notice that she was blatantly lying to him.

She heard Harry make a noise of agreement. "Still, you shouldn't work yourself too hard. You should come out with Ron and I. Ron's taking Mandy out to a concert on Thursday and he invited me and Padma along. How about we find you someone and you come along?"

Hermione sighed and turned from the filing cabinet. "That's nice, Harry, but I really have too much to do."

Harry frowned. "But it's been so long since you came out with us. Besides, what happened to Wayne? I thought you had a date."

Hermione avoided Harry's eyes as she moved back to her desk and Harry stood up. "It didn't work out. He's nice but just a little boring."

"Oh," Harry said, frowning again. "Well, what about Graham from the Unspeakables?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and cringed a little. Graham was a former-Slytherin and she didn't like to think what Blaise might say if she went out with Graham. Then she shook herself mentally. She shouldn't be thinking about what Blaise would say. He had no impact on her life anymore, no say in what she did. Or at least, he hadn't…

"Harry, I don't need to be set-up," she said with a patronizing air one would use with a five-year old.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on, Hermione. You haven't really been with anyone, as in more than a date, since—"

He was interrupted by a knock on the door behind him. They both turned to look and Hermione walked over, opening it.

"Blaise," Hermione said, feeling her throat constrict at the sight of him.

Blaise stood in the doorway, dressed nicely in a pair of black slacks and green shirt with a sleek jacket, like always. His dark hair fell into his face and he brushed it back, glancing at Hermione.

"Granger," he said in greeting. "I need to—Potter." Blaise cut himself off as he caught sight of Harry, who was standing just beyond Hermione and glaring at him.

Harry scowled. "What are you doing here, Zabini?"

Blaise's expression fell back into his practiced look of indifference, one he had perfected over the years of rooming with Draco. He quirked an eyebrow. "I'm here to see Hermione," he said smoothly, reverting to her first name just to irk Harry. "I don't believe it's any of your business."

Harry glared at Blaise and then turned his eyes on Hermione, silently asking her what was going on.

Hermione avoided both men's eyes.

"Hermione," Harry said, trying to get her attention, "what's going on? What is he doing here?"

"Mind your own business, Potter," Blaise said before Hermione responded. He glanced at her, noting she was still staring at the floor. "I'm here to talk to Hermione and it doesn't involve you."

Harry merely glared at him. He sighed impatiently and turned to Hermione again. "Hermione, wha—"

"It's okay, Harry," Hermione said suddenly. "Just go, please."

Harry stared at her for a second. Then he took a slow step towards the door, his glance flitting back to Blaise, who looked completely inconspicuous. Harry's gaze turned warning as he left the room, still watching Blaise suspiciously.

Blaise watched him until the door was shut and he was sure Potter was gone. When he was sure, he turned back to Hermione.

"What was he doing here?" he asked.

Hermione sighed and walked back to her chair, sitting down tiredly in it. "He's my friend, and he came by to see how I was."

"How you are?" Blaise repeated. "Did you tell him?"

"No," Hermione said tiredly. Then she looked up suddenly. "What are you doing here, Blaise? I thought you didn't want anything to do with this."

"No, _you_ didn't want me to have anything to do with this," Blaise corrected her, walking over to her desk and sliding onto it.

"Did you ever think I was right?" Hermione asked, getting some of her confidence back. His sudden appearance had startled her.

"I did for about a day," Blaise said casually, picking up a quill and twirling it between his fingers. "But you're not always right, even if you think you are. I know you, Hermione. You're acting all cool and collected right now, but inside you're a bundle of nerves. You don't know how you're going to handle a baby. You don't think, actually, you know you can't do it alone. You're afraid to tell anyone because of the consequences. I'm the only one you have right now. You can't do it without me."

Hermione was silent for a moment. She hated how he knew all these things about her.

"And just what do you intend to do?" she asked, scowling. "You're not ready either, I know. You can barely keep hold of a girlfriend. How do you expect to take care of a child? You're irresponsible and just how do you think your mother is going to react to this? I know she wants a Zabini heir, but _obviously_ she doesn't want it with me."

"Must you analyze everything?" Blaise asked, frustrated. "We don't have to tell my mother, at least not yet. I can barely figure this out for myself. I don't even want to think about her. What about you? Do you plan on telling Potter and Weasley any time soon?"

Hermione frowned and stared at her desk. "No," she muttered, knowing he was smirking knowingly. "But that's different. They'll still love me when I tell them. They'll just hate you more." She looked up and gave Blaise an exaggerated smirk.

Blaise's eyes narrowed. "My mother won't disown me for such a trifling thing as a child."

"_A trifling thing_?" Hermione repeated incredulously. "Do you have any idea how hard this is going to be? I can't believe it had to be with you. This is all your fault!"

"Before we start assigning blame again," Blaise said quickly, "I think we should discuss our little problem here."

Hermione scowled at being cut-off. She had a lot of pent-up anger and Blaise was the perfect person to take it out on. She forced herself to calm down, taking a short breath and letting it out equally quickly. "What would you care to discuss?" she asked, her tone cold.

Blaise hesitated. He'd been thinking about this for the past week. He hadn't seen his mother, hadn't talked to Jenna, as he'd promised he would. He'd simply written an article for work and sent it in. Otherwise, he'd isolated himself, trying to figure out what he wanted.

It was a difficult thing. Whatever he wanted would always be punctuated by what was good for the family name, what his mother wanted, what the rest of the world thought.

"I want to be involved," Blaise said finally. "It's my… kid, and I am prepared to do whatever's necessary."

Hermione was taken aback. Blaise taking responsibility wasn't unheard of, but it was rare in Hermione's experience.

"Really?" she asked. "So if I need you to come over at midnight, you'll come? If the baby gets sick and you have to miss work, you'll do it? If you're on a 'date' and I need a babysitter, you'll drop everything and come over?" She watched him carefully. She knew how much he loved his _dates_, if you could call them that. She hated thinking about them.

"Yes," Blaise said seriously. "Whatever it takes."

Hermione was still doubtful. "And if your mother decides that having this baby is against her beliefs and you're unworthy, then what?"

Blaise paused. "She won't."

Hermione scowled and was less pleased when Blaise slid off her desk, handing her back the quill he'd been playing with and gave her a suave smirk.

"Enjoy the rest of your day, pet," he said. "I have a date to get to."

Hermione growled to herself as he walked out the door, giving her a sly nod as he slipped out. She sat back in her chair, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

This was going to be a long journey, she could already tell.

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_A/N: falls behind again Sorryness. Please review!_


	5. Spring Wedding

"Good morning."

Blaise opened his eyes slowly, shifting under the warm covers, his hand sliding around the body next to him. He smiled as the woman snuggled closer.

"Morning," he murmured, leaning over and kissing the top of the woman's head.

"How'd you sleep?"

Blaise sighed contentedly and rubbed Hermione's back. "Wonderfully."

He heard Hermione laugh and knew she was smiling. Her hand slid up his chest as she stretched. "I'm so glad everything worked out," she breathed, kissing his shoulder.

"Yeah," he replied, pulling her closer and closing his eyes.

"Blaise?"

"Yeah?"

"Blaise!"

Blaise closed his eyes tighter and groaned softly. "What?" he asked.

He felt a hand on his chest, someone pushing themselves up. He opened his eyes reluctantly and saw a pretty blond with the covers pulled up over her chest staring down at him.

"You fell asleep, sweetie," the woman said with a shrill giggle. She ran a manicured nail down his chest and he struggled not to cringe. "I knew I was good, but not that good."

"Er, yeah, Jenna," Blaise muttered, sitting upright, the sheet falling down to his waist. He rubbed his face and sighed, glancing at the clock.

It read three in the afternoon. He'd finally gotten around to sending her that Owl his mother had insisted upon. It had ended where he'd thought it would. She was just like all the others; no substance, no original thought, only a mind for money and clothes. Blaise didn't see how his mother thought a woman like this would make him happy. How could he possibly be interested in marrying a girl with absolutely no substance?

Blaise sighed, more to himself than anyone else, and slid off the bed, grabbing a new pair of boxers and slipping them on. He didn't look as Jenna redressed, pulling on her slinky thong and too-short skirt. Most women Blaise knew preferred to go with the Muggle look nowadays because of the increased options available.

When she had squeezed into her top that hugged her midriff, she moved over to where he was staring out the window at the clouds that were gathering in the distance. She slid her arms around his stomach, not noticing how he stiffened at her touch.

"Blaise, my sweet," she whispered in his ear, "my father is having a little get together next week at his country mansion. I would love for you to come."

Blaise paused. He knew this was the last time he would see this particular girl. Turning from the window, he gave Jenna a kind smile, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Jenna, I'm afraid this can't go on," he said in a voice that appeared polite. "I don't see this going anywhere."

"Well, who said it would?" Jenna countered, sliding her hands under his shirt. She gave him a sly smile. "My father has a very big estate with many unused rooms."

Blaise caught her arms and removed them from under his shirt. "As do I, but we don't need to use them all."

Jenna pouted for a second. "Blaisey, I know what this is about. Your mother won't be happy if you send me away. I'm your only chance."

Blaise raised an eyebrow at this girl's audacity. "I don't count on chances. Now, go find another man to peddle your whorish ways on."

Jenna looked properly disgruntled as he led her to the door and opened it for her. She turned around just as she stepped onto the front porch.

"You sure we can't work something out?" she said, leaning in to his lips.

He stopped her before she got too close, giving her a small push away. "No," he said simply, taking a step back and shutting the door in her face.

He had no worries about her rebounding. Girls like that never had any problems.

Walking back to the living room, he sunk down onto his couch. He'd been getting tired of Jenna in the last few weeks. It was about time to move on. He knew his mother wouldn't be happy, but she would undoubtedly pull another of the same sort out of the woodwork. He wasn't worried about her.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang and Blaise glanced up. His maid answered the door, and he heard her being dismissed by a disdainful voice. Moments later, his mother appeared in the doorway to the living room.

"Blaise, darling," Isabella greeted him, coming over and kissing him on the cheek. She sat down in a white leather chair and crossed her legs. "How are you?"

"Hello, mother," Blaise said simply. "I'm doing well, and you?"

"Oh," Isabella said, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm as well as can be expected. Did you know Robert's family was comprised of such boorish people? The funeral was dreadfully boring, don't you think?"

Blaise nodded, recollecting the funeral that had taken place a week ago. It had been Robert Wilmerand, his mother's tenth husband. She never seemed too interested in keeping them around. He wondered who she would marry next and how much they would be worth.

Isabella paused, regarding her son closely. She glanced around his house then back at him. "Where's Jenna? I thought you had a date today."

"She's gone," Blaise said. "I didn't care for her."

"Oh, darling," Isabella sighed. "What am I going to do with you? That's the fourth one you've let go. What was wrong with her? She was such a beautiful girl."

"Beautiful and vapid," Blaise replied boredly. "She could barely read."

"What does that matter?" Isabella said dismissively. "She doesn't need to read. She needs to stay home and take care of the children."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Mother, if I have to marry and idiot, I'd prefer one who could at least hold a decent conversation."

"Marry an idiot? Darling, you will marry the most beautiful girl and have wonderful children to uphold the family name."

Blaise paused. "What if the girl isn't conventionally beautiful?"

"What do you mean, sweetheart?"

"Simply that not every girl is Miss Universe pretty."

"Oh posh," Isabella said. "I will find you a lovely wife. You know it's my greatest desire to have you married and happy."

Blaise said nothing in response. He knew she wanted him married, and soon. She also wanted a grandson as soon as possible. He almost laughed at how soon it would be that she would have a grandchild, though he was sure she would not be thrilled at who the mother was.

He'd been thinking a lot about what Hermione had asked him a few days ago in her office. He was confident that his mother wouldn't disown him for having a child out of wedlock, but he could never be too sure.

When he and Hermione had been together, Isabella hadn't been the most welcoming person. She was always the first to point out Hermione's faults and suggest that Blaise was worth much better. She had been delighted at the news of their breakup and quickly set him up with someone completely unlike Hermione.

Blaise humored her mostly because he felt he had nothing better to do. After the breakup with Hermione, he hadn't felt like doing anything. The set-ups were an excuse to go out and try to go back to what his life had been like before Hermione.

Before, he'd been a playboy. He went out almost every night to the hottest clubs in London, often going home with a different girl each time. He spent a lot of his time traveling and meeting new people. He wasn't interested in having a steady girlfriend, and though his mother had pushed then for settling down, it hadn't been nearly as insistent as it had become lately.

He had always known Hermione. In school, she had been the annoying know-it-all, praised by all the teachers except Snape. He had been fairly quiet in school, though he was smart. He watched for seven years as she was praised and improved her mind.

At the time, it had bothered him how much she wanted the approval of her teachers, of her friends. He didn't like how much attention she attracted, but he had supposed this was because he himself didn't like drawing attention to himself.

He watched as she became friends with Ron and Harry. He didn't know much about them, and he really didn't care. He glimpsed her throughout the war, helping them along. He knew she hadn't changed.

After the war ended and things settled down, Blaise had gotten a job at the Daily Prophet and was now much more involved in the world. Before, he'd preferred to stay out of the world, watching from the sideline as it ran itself into the ground.

He met Hermione on an assignment. He was assigned to cover a trial of a Death Eater in the Ministry and she'd been one of the judges in the case. At first glance, he'd recognized her, though she didn't seem to know him very well. She did know his name, though.

Blaise didn't know what had made him ask her out, but after the trial ended, he found himself approaching her and asking if she'd like to have coffee.

She'd been standoffish as first, cautious of his motives and connections, but as time went on, he'd convinced her that he was sincere. He learned a lot about her in the few months they dated.

His impression of her being a know-it-all still stood up under scrutiny, but he learned it was because of a true desire to learn. She was passionate about learning new things, reading especially. Blaise learned that Hermione loved to learn. She loved to read, to study, to be able to answer questions when they were asked. She loved to be able to point people in the right direction, to help them.

One thing Blaise had always meant to do, and had been planning to do for a long time, was show Hermione his library. In his house, there was a rather large room in the back with wood paneling on one wall and a huge window on the other, opening up to a rolling pasture behind the house. Inside this room was more books than Blaise could ever hope to read.

Most of these books, he had inherited from his many step-fathers. His mother knew he loved to read so whenever one would pass, his books would be added to Blaise's collection, finally coming to the library.

The room was well-lit and much natural light came from the windows. Some days, Blaise just went to the library and settled himself on the plush couch before the window and pulled a book off the shelf just to read. He found it particularly comforting on winter days when snow drifted from the sky and he had a book and a mug of hot chocolate.

He'd intended to show the room to Hermione for many months while they had dated, but had never gotten around to it. He was sure she would have loved it.

Blaise sighed as he heard a thunderclap. As he looked up, he saw out the window that the sky had grown dark and rain had started, pattering the window as it came down.

"Dear, it's raining," Isabella said. "And I was going to meet Narcissa for tea."

Blaise glanced at her and paused. He wondered what she would say if he told her about Hermione. In the end, he knew it was best not to say anything. "I'm sure you still can," he said.

"Yes," Isabella sighed. "I suppose I'd best be off, then." She stood up and smoothed down her robes. Blaise could hear the tinkling of gold bracelets on her wrist as she did so. She moved to the door, followed by Blaise. "Don't worry, darling. I'll find you someone better than Jenna."

Blaise refrained from rolling his eyes. "Yes, mother."

She smiled at him and gave him a pat on his hand before opening the door and stepping out, Apparating away before the rain even hit her head.

Blaise closed the door slowly, turning and staring at his empty house. After a moment's contemplation, he turned and went down a darkened hallway to the back of the house.

Pulling open and pair of double doors, he stepped into a huge room with books lining all the walls. He glanced around and took a deep breath. Stepping over to one of the walls, Blaise, ran his finger along the spines of the old books until he came to one and grabbing it, pulled it out of its place.

He then walked over to the couch situated by the window and sat down in it. With a tap of his wand, he lighted the lamp, casting a warm glow into the room. After a moment looking out the window where rain was pelting down, he sighed, cracking the book open and beginning to read.

OoOoO

Hermione stood under her large black umbrella, almost ignorant to the pouring rain that drenched the sidewalk around her. Many people were bustling by, hidden under their raincoats and umbrellas.

Hermione wasn't paying them any attention. Instead, she was focused on the store in front of her. The large display window was filled with baby items such as cradles, mobiles, clothes, and toys. She watched as a couple entered the store, the man helping his wife.

Hermione sighed and hesitated. She'd been staring in the window for the past ten minutes. She hadn't intended to come this way, to look in this store. Now she was here, though, and she couldn't bring herself to go away.

With a furtive glance around her, she slipped into the store. She shook her umbrella and closed it, looking around her. The store was brightly lit and pastels jumped out at her everywhere she turned.

"May I take your coat?"

Hermione jumped as a sales girl appeared out of nowhere. She frowned and pulled her overcoat tighter around herself protectively.

"No, that's alright."

The girl simply smiled. "Anything I can help you with, miss?"

"No, I… I'm just looking," Hermione said, forcing a polite smile.

The girl left with an assurance that if Hermione needed any help she would be there. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as the girl walked away. She turned back to the store, releasing her jacket slightly.

She wasn't showing yet but she felt exposed otherwise. She knew she was risking exposure simply by entering this shop. She figured, however, that is was unlikely to meet any of her acquaintances in here. Very few of her friends had children so they had no need to be shopping for baby items.

Hermione turned and wandered down an aisle, past many pastel baby clothes. She fingered one and bit her lip. She couldn't imagine that soon she would actually have to buy these. After passing several rows of clothes, she came to the area that housed many different cribs.

She ran her hand down a mahogany crib, feeling the smooth wood under her fingers. She paused for a moment, looking at the crib. She was thinking of her flat. Was there even room for something like this? It wasn't a small flat, but it wasn't huge either. She hadn't thought about this yet.

As she stared around her at the many cribs, she felt her throat closing up. It was so difficult and it had barely started. She couldn't imagine what was going to happen in a few months. She had nowhere to put a baby. She would have to move. And how would she explain that?

Hermione felt her emotions taking over her as she stood in the middle of the store. She couldn't help it. It was all so much.

Her eyes misted over and she dabbed at them quickly, lest someone see. She took her hand off the mahogany crib and turned away, heading to where there were millions of children's toys lining a wall.

As she stood staring up at the many choices, she heard a voice calling her name behind her.

"Hermione!"

Her eyes widened and her body stiffened. Her hands automatically tugged her jacket closer as she heard the person approaching.

"Hermione!" the voice called again. "Hermione, what are you doing here?"

Hermione turned slowly to see Lavender Weasley, formerly Brown, behind her. Hermione gave her a forced smile.

"Lavender, how are you?"

Lavender smiled and placed her hands on her protruding belly. "Wonderful. We're so happy. It's our third one, you know. Little Percy junior and Marion are so excited for a new brother or sister."

Hermione's smile didn't falter. Lavender had married Percy Weasley just a few years ago, a suspicious circumstance since Percy junior was just three years old and he had been born just a few months after the wedding. Hermione never said anything to the fact, but it was widely acknowledged that Lavender hadn't been the most prudent girl.

"What are you doing here?" Lavender asked, looking Hermione up and down. "Oh! Are you pregnant?"

Hermione blanched but quickly recovered herself. "No, I'm just… shopping for a friend. She's having a baby shower."

"Oh," Lavender said, sounding a little disappointed. "Well, Hermione, I know you're the big career-powered woman, but you should consider settling down and having a baby." Lavender grabbed her arm and began steering her over to another part of the shop. "It's so rewarding to stay home with the children and watch them grow up. How about I set you up? I know some very eligible men who might be willing to go out with you."

Hermione's expression was no longer the fake smile. It was rather insulted instead as she listened to Lavender. "That's alright," she said, a little coldly. "I don't need to be set-up."

Lavender dropped her arm and turned to her, an excited look on her face. "Are you seeing someone? Who is he? Do I know him? Is he handsome? Is he rich? Do you think you'll have a spring wedding or a fall? I've always preferred spring. It seems so much more elegant, don't you?"

Hermione couldn't get a word in edgewise as Lavender talked on about weddings. Finally, Hermione stopped walking and Lavender was forced to turn around.

"No, Lavender," she said firmly. "I'm not seeing anyone. And if I was, I wouldn't have a spring wedding!" She then turned and strode away from a confused Lavender.

Hermione let out a harsh breath as she stepped outside the shop, opening her umbrella as she did so. She splashed out into the torrential rain and set off down the sidewalk.

If this was a taste of what would happen when she told someone about the baby, she didn't want to and that was final.

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_A/N: I tried to upload this yesterday but ff was being stupid. oh well. please review!_


	6. At the Healer's

Hermione sat nervously in the waiting room, continuously glancing up at the clock on the wall. It was ten past one in the afternoon. The door tinkled as it was opened and she swung around to look but was disappointed as someone she didn't know walked in.

She sighed in frustration and nerves as she looked at the clock again. Blaise was supposed to have been there by now. He was supposed to have been there ten minutes ago.

Hermione folded her hands together to stop their nervous shaking as she looked around the white waiting room. On the table next to her were several magazines about parenting, but she couldn't bring herself to read any.

Through the window, she could see a cluster of trees and a large green lawn spreading out for a long ways. She had chosen a Healer far away from London. She didn't want the possibility of accidentally meeting someone she knew. She was in no hurry for people to find out.

It was her first real checkup she was going to. She was nervous and she had told Blaise to come. If he wanted to be involved, he should be aware of what was going on. But he was late. Very late. And it was beginning to grate on Hermione's nerves.

She took a deep breath and told herself to calm down as she glanced at the clock again. Soon, she would have to go in. She wouldn't admit to anyone, but she was scared. This was something she wasn't prepared for at all.

Just as she was thinking of getting up and leaving, the door tinkled open and Blaise strode in. He didn't look nervous at all, simply confident. He looked around and caught sight of Hermione. He came over and leant down to kiss her on the cheek.

Hermione made a noise and pushed him away. "What are you doing?"

Blaise paused for a second. "Old habit," he said by way of explanation and took his seat beside her.

Hermione sighed. "You're late," she said out of the side of her mouth, not wanting any of the other people in the waiting room to hear.

"Meeting ran long," Blaise replied simply, picking up one of the magazines and leafing through it, uninterested.

"Meeting," Hermione huffed. She knew perfectly well what type of meeting it was. "Jenna must have had something particularly poignant to say, then?"

"Jenna's long gone," Blaise said, not looking at Hermione.

Hermione was surprised for a second but after a moment figured she should have known. "Already bored? So who's the next Mrs. Zabini? I assume Isabella has already got four girls in line for your hand."

Blaise glanced up as Hermione stopped, looking around. Several of the people had glanced at them when his name had been mentioned. He paid them no attention, but leaned into Hermione. "Can we discuss this later? Besides, my personal life has nothing to do with you, remember?"

Hermione didn't look satisfied but sunk into silence as they waited. The people around them slowly went back to their own pursuits.

"Ms. Granger?" The nurse came out with a chart in her hands. "The Healer will see you now."

Hermione picked herself up dignifiedly and followed the nurse down a hall. She had picked the best Healer outside of London as her caregiver. She wasn't sure it would be alright to go to a non-wizard doctor, and she felt more comfortable with a wizard Healer anyway.

Blaise followed Hermione and the nurse as she led them into a small room with a sort of bed in one corner. Hermione climbed onto the bed as the nurse left and she and Blaise were left alone.

They were silent for a while. Blaise looked around the room, seeing some sterilization tools. He had no idea what was going to happen. He'd never been through this before.

After a few moments of silence, Hermione cleared her throat.

"So what was discussed at your meeting?"

Blaise didn't look at her, instead, running his hand over the counter. "Article length and content."

"Oh," Hermione said quietly. "Are you writing about anything interesting?"

"Not really," Blaise shrugged.

Another silence followed and Hermione sighed. This wasn't what she wanted to talk about. She wanted to know why Jenna hadn't worked out.

"Your mother," she said slowly, "has she found a new husband yet?"

"Not that I'm aware," Blaise said, turning around and leaning against the counter. He crossed his arms and watched Hermione. "Why don't you ask what you really want to know, Hermione?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione said loftily. She hated how he always knew what she was thinking.

"You want to know why I threw Jenna back," Blaise supplied.

Hermione paused. "I might be curious," she said indifferently. She looked away from Blaise, fingering the edge of her skirt.

Blaise pushed off the counter edge and moved towards her. He stopped a foot away from her and waited until she looked at him again. "How curious would you be, and why?"

Hermione frowned. "It doesn't matter why. I would just like to know what flaw this one had that couldn't be overcome. Surely she was beautiful enough. You're mother would have made sure of that. We can't have the Zabini heirs being ugly with bushy hair and buck teeth, now, can we?"

Blaise sighed at the reference. "She never understood you," he said finally.

Hermione looked taken aback. "What?"

"Nothing," Blaise said, taking a step back. "Jenna was vapid and didn't have a single original thought in her pretty blond head. That's why I broke it off."

"So you think she's pretty?" Hermione said quickly.

Blaise shrugged. "They all are. You said so yourself."

"Who's next then?" Hermione asked, her tone sharp. "Maybe some foreign girl to shake things up. Why, how about some beautiful Italian princess? She'd match you perfectly. I should make the suggestion to your mother."

"What are you on about?" Blaise asked, wondering why she was getting mad at him. He had no control over the girls his mother picked.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she glared at him. "Oh, nothing," she said snidely. "Be sure to let me know who the next future wife will be."

"Hermione," Blaise started but was interrupted as the door swung open and a plump, balding man came in.

The Healer was all smiles as he walked in the door, shutting it behind him. He turned to Hermione and Blaise, neither of which looked particularly pleased.

"Good afternoon!" he said. "My name is Healer Robinson and I'll be in charge of your health for the next nine months." He smiled as though it was a joke they should partake in but when no laughter was forthcoming, he paused. "You are expecting, Mrs. Granger?"

"It's Miss Granger," Hermione corrected him, "and, yes, you are correct."

"Right," the Healer said, glancing down at his chart. He looked up at Blaise. "And you are Mr…"

"Zabini," Blaise supplied. "Blaise Zabini. I'm the father."

"Ah, Zabini," the Healer said, his eyes taking him in more closely. Blaise and Hermione exchanged a glance but said nothing. The Healer finished looking over Blaise and seemed to snap back to his cheerful self. "Alright, Ms. Granger. We just need to do some routine tests to make sure everything is in order. If you take care of yourself, I shan't need to see you very often until the baby is born."

He told Hermione to lie down on the bed and she did so, her hands folded over her stomach and her gaze fixed on the ceiling. She was instructed to lift her shirt to reveal her stomach and she did so, feeling the nerves gathering.

Blaise stood next to her, wondering exactly what the doctor was going to do. Healer Robinson sat down in a chair next to Hermione and took out his wand. "You may feel a tingle," he warned with a wink and Hermione forced a laugh, but it came out nervous.

The Healer began to wave his wand in a circle over Hermione's stomach and they waited. While he was doing this, he engaged them in conversation.

"So, Mr. Zabini," he said as his wand continued to circle. Hermione glanced at Blaise, who was looking at the Healer. "How did you two meet?"

Blaise paused for a second. "We met at school a long time ago."

"Ah, yes," the Healer said, "I get a lot of couples who've been together since school. You went to Hogwarts I guess? Excellent school."

"We're not together," Hermione interjected.

The Healer looked at her, a little surprised. "Really? You seem the perfect couple."

Blaise glanced at Hermione, who was frowning. "No, we dated for a while, but it didn't work out."

"Pity," the Healer said, waving his wand over Hermione's stomach still. "You'd be surprised what having a child does."

"Excuse me?" Blaise asked.

"Oh, nothing," Healer Robinson said. "So Mr. Zabini, are you the son of Isabella Zabini?"

Blaise hesitated. He knew Hermione had been worried about recognition. "Yes, I am, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this."

"Of course, of course!" Robinson exclaimed. "Healer-patient confidentiality, you know. I'm not at liberty to discuss my patients with anyone." He made a motion of zipping his lips and winked again at Blaise.

Blaise shrugged at Hermione and she looked a little appeased. She lifted her head to watch the circling wand. "What exactly are you doing?" she asked.

"Simple procedure. If you wait just a moment…" The Healer removed his wand and made a motion as if flicking the tip. After the third flick, a photograph erupted from the end. He unrolled it and made a study of it for a moment.

He then handed it to Hermione. "Looks like the baby is perfectly healthy. You can see it there." He pointed to a little black dot on the picture. "If you give me a moment, I will calculate the due date and then give you some information on keeping healthy."

He waved his wand and tapped the picture Hermione was holding. On the bottom of the picture, a date scrawled across it.

"January third," Hermione read. She looked up from the photo to the Healer. "That's the due date?"

"Yep," Healer Robinson said cheerfully. "So I wouldn't be planning any vacations in those last few months. Apparating isn't good for the baby."

"No Apparating?" Hermione asked, concerned. She was used to Apparating everywhere. Sure, she had a Muggle driver's license, but she wasn't very good at it.

"'Fraid not," Healer Robinson said. "Here are some pamphlets on healthy eating while pregnant and some activities that are good for the baby."

"I—" Hermione said as the Healer gave her a multitude of pamphlets.

"Eating a balanced diet is one of the most important things while pregnant," the Healer said. "It's best to start right away so I'd recommend stopping by the market on the way home."

"But—"

"Have you two thought about living arrangements yet? There are a lot of things to buy for a baby and it's always better to start early than late."

Hermione looked like she was becoming overwhelmed as she sat up, pulling her shirt down. Blaise caught sight of this and helped her down. He turned to the Healer.

"Thank you, sir, we'll take this all into consideration."

He began to steer Hermione towards the door and the Healer called after them. "Talk to the nurse on your way out. It's always best to schedule an appointment a few months in as well."

Blaise nodded but said nothing as he guided Hermione out. She couldn't say anything for a while and was silent as Blaise talked to the nurse, arranging another appointment a few months down the road.

As they stepped outside the door into the fresh spring air, Hermione regained herself. She made to turn back. "Wait! I didn't ask him about the diet! What am I supposed to eat? Is it alright that I don't like squash? I have to go back!"

Blaise kept a firm grip on her as she tried to run back inside the office.

"Hermione, it's fine. Don't worry. We'll figure this out."

Hermione stopped struggling and turned to him, pulling her arm out of his grasp. She was glaring at him and he sighed, knowing she was about to yell at him.

"Figure it out?" she repeated. "You don't have any idea what you're doing. We don't even know what's going on with this thing. We have so much to do, so much to buy, so many things to prepare and all you can say is that we'll figure it out!" She brought herself up to her full height and poked him in the chest with her finger. "We need help figuring it out and right now the Healer is the only one who can!"

"Hermione," Blaise said as she turned and began to stalk away from him. "You just need to relax, take things as they come."

"Oh, because that's your way of doing things," Hermione spat, turning around and he nearly ran into her. "'I'll just throw away whatever I don't like. People don't have feelings. I'll take things as they come. If my mother picks another, I'll fuck her until I get tired.' That's how it is with you, Blaise, isn't it? Always has been. You're not interested in long-term goals. You like to take life as it comes to you and hope that nothing bad will happen. Well, I've got news for you. Some things don't just go away and you can't sit back and watch your life slip by. Sometimes you have to act no matter how bad things get. I don't think you know that."

With that speech, Hermione turned and Apparated away, leaving Blaise in the middle of the country side, sighing and rolling his eyes. He hoped this was only hormones talking and not the underlying concern he could see beneath her words.

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A/N: Posting! Because I'm tired of working on my NaNoWriMo novel. 4 days and 20,000 words. I'd say that's a good start, wouldn't you:) Please review!_


	7. Dinner Party

Hermione took a deep breath as she stood in front of the large wooden door. Her hands were nervously smoothing down the front of her black dress. Glancing down at her stomach that looked completely normal, she tried to force down the feeling of impending doom. She told herself to get a grip and raised her fist, giving three rapid knocks on the door.

It was thrown open moments later and the light from the entrance way spilled out into the early spring evening.

"Hermione! You're here! I was beginning to worry."

Hermione took a breath and smiled almost mechanically at the man in the doorway. "Of course I'm here, Harry," she said simply. "You know I love our dinners."

Harry grinned and stepped back, allowing her in. He offered to take her coat and stored it in the closet to the side. He turned, leading her into the house. "Ron and Mandy are already here and Padma's doing something in the kitchen. She won't let me look. I swear, she thinks I can't cook, but I keep telling her I can! Maybe you'll convince her to let me make her dinner sometime."

Hermione smiled again, this time more easily than before. She'd been feeling bad for avoiding Harry for the past few weeks, but she hadn't felt ready or able to be around them before. When he had invited her to dinner with him and Ron, she'd known she had to go. It was imperative to keep up pretenses and it wouldn't do to have Harry and Ron believing she was falling ill. That would only make them even more attentive to her.

Following Harry, they passed through the warmly lit hallway to the living room where Ron and Mandy were seated on the couch, drinks in their hands. Harry guided Hermione to the couch and grabbed his wand.

"What would you like to drink? Let me guess," he said, grinning, "a martini, dry, no olive?" He raised his wand to conjure the drink but Hermione stopped him.

"Actually, I'd prefer water," she said quickly, hoping they wouldn't get suspicious.

Harry looked surprised for a second but didn't question her. Instead, he raised his wand, conjuring a glass of water with a slice of lemon in it. Hermione accepted it with a smile and took a small drink.

She knew she had to be careful and though Harry knew her drink by heart, as did anyone who went out with her more than once, changing her routine in front of her best friends was not the best way to keep things a secret. She only hoped the rest of the evening wasn't this difficult.

Determined not to think about what she was trying to conceal, she turned to Ron and Mandy.

"So Mandy," she said, setting her water down on the coffee table, "Ron tells me you've just received a promotion. Congratulations."

Mandy glanced at her carefully and smiled. She sent a warm smile at Ron and laughed shyly. "Yes, I've been appointed head nurse at St. Mungo's. It's so much more responsibility. I don't know if I'll be able to handle it."

Ron laughed and hugged her to him. "You'll do great. We all know you're the best nurse in that ruddy place."

Mandy gave a shy smile and placed her hands in her lap, sitting quietly.

Hermione watched her and Ron for a moment, seeing how Ron watched Mandy so attentively. They'd been together a little under a year and Hermione could honestly say she couldn't remember ever seeing Ron this happy. She thought Mandy was a good choice. She was intelligent, responsible, and knew how to handle Ron even if she did seem quiet and reserved.

"How's your training going, Hermione?" Harry asked, taking a drink of his scotch.

"It's a lot of work," Hermione replied. "The new Minister seems to want perfection. After the war, the ministry's been under a lot of pressure to change the judicial system and Mr. Fallersome appears to be taking it as a personal undertaking to reform the courts."

Harry nodded understandingly. "I know. He was in my office the other day yelling about escaped criminals and how we're not doing enough to find them. I'm sorry if I don't have eyes in the back of my head, but I'm doing my best."

Hermione laughed. "Yes, he's trying his hardest to change the image of the Ministry."

"You think he'll manage?" Ron piped up and Hermione glanced over. Her eyes lingered on Ron's fingers interlaced with Mandy's but she forced herself to concentrate.

"Maybe," she said.

"He's going to have to try really hard after what Fudge and Scrimgoeuer left us with," Harry said darkly.

There was a bit of an awkward silence after Harry's statement. He'd never quite forgiven the Ministry for what they'd done in the past. Luckily, they were saved by Padma, who entered from the kitchen.

"Don't depress everyone, Harry," she said reproachfully, but smiling all the same. She walked over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then turned to Hermione. "Hermione, I'm so glad you could come. I haven't seen you in ages. Parvati told me Lavender ran into you the other day."

Hermione colored slightly but forced herself to smile. "Yes, I saw her out the other day. She looked well."

Padma looked at Hermione for a second but didn't reply to her comment. After a second, she seemed to snap out a reverie. She smiled and turned to the group. "Well, the first course is ready. Shall we go to the dining room?"

There was a general consent, and everyone rose, following Padma and Harry to the dining room. Hermione trailed behind everyone else, noticing how Padma slipped her hand into Harry's as they walked, seeing Harry's brief but loving smile and feeling a twist in the pit of her stomach.

She saw Ron lead Mandy to her chair and pull it out for her. She stood in the doorway for a second, watching the happy couples until Harry interrupted her thoughts.

"Aren't you going to sit down?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione said, sliding into her chair and smoothing down her dress.

Padma disappeared for a moment and came back with plates of salads for everyone. Harry looked at her as she set them down.

"You wouldn't even let me help with the salads?"

Padma rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by Harry again. "Hermione, tell her I can cook. You know I can."

Hermione laughed. "Yes, Harry's very talented with a spatula."

Padma laughed and patted Harry on the cheek as she slid into her seat beside him. "I believe you, but you know this is what I do."

"So because you're a chef means I'm not allowed to cut lettuce and tomatoes?" Harry asked, pretending to be indignant.

"Well, I wouldn't want you to slice those beautiful hands of yours," Padma said, running a finger over Harry's hand.

Harry paused, then shrugged. "Fine, but I'm going to make you dinner sometime, and you won't be allowed help. How about that?"

"Sounds wonderful," Padma replied, picking up her fork. "Now eat, it's getting cold."

"It's supposed to be cold," Ron said slowly and everyone laughed. "What?"

No one answered him and everyone began to eat their salads. Hermione listened more than talked throughout the first course, hearing about everyone's lives and happenings. She laughed when Harry told about prank in the office where his partner had somehow ended up with toilets on his head instead of ears. She gasped when Padma told about the apprentice cutting off his finger with a knife in the restaurant.

After two wonderful courses, Padma brought out the dessert. Each plate had a chocolate brownie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream set on top. A slice of peach was wedged into the ice cream and the entire thing was drizzled in chocolate.

"Wow," Hermione breathed as her plate was set in front of her. "Padma, this is amazing."

Padma smiled graciously. "Just something I like to make from time to time."

"How do you stay thin, mate?" Ron asked Harry as he dug into his plate.

"Exercise," Harry replied, glancing at Padma, who blushed slightly.

Hermione didn't miss the glance and her smile fell a little. She hitched it back into place as Ron stood up.

"I think we need some champagne," he said, raising his wand and conjuring a bottle and glasses.

Hermione watched nervously as he poured five glasses and handed them round. She accepted hers but set it to the side carefully.

"What's the occasion?" Harry asked, taking his glass from Ron.

Ron sat back down and glanced at Mandy, who just smiled shyly. "We, uh, have kind of an announcement."

Padma turned attentively to them and Hermione did as well. Glancing between Ron and Mandy, she tried to determine just what it was. Mandy didn't give out any clues other than blushing slightly but still smiling carefully.

Hermione knew Mandy was a quiet girl who preferred to read rather than socialize. She'd been surprised when she'd found out Ron was dating her, but after getting to know her, found that she was really a lovely girl.

Ron cleared his throat and Hermione saw his arm move under the table, presumably taking Mandy's hand.

"Mandy and I are engaged," he said, his face splitting into a grin.

There was silence for a moment and then an explosion of sound as the announcement sunk in.

"Congratulations!" Harry exclaimed, grabbing Ron and hugging him. "Knew you'd find the right girl someday, mate."

Padma's eyes had lit up at the announcement and she too hugged Ron and then Mandy. "How wonderful! I was wondering when someone might pop the question."

Mandy couldn't help smiling and she held up her hand that she'd been hiding all night. On her left ring finger, a silver and diamond ring sparkled in the candle light and Padma let out an awed noise.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, looking at it closer. She turned to Hermione, who hadn't said anything yet. "Isn't it lovely?"

"Yes, it's gorgeous," Hermione said, moving over to Mandy and giving her a quick hug. "Congratulation," she said warmly.

Mandy lowered her head. "Thank you," she said quietly, but Hermione could hear the glowing in her voice and knew she was happy. She looked up and smiled at Ron, who was still grinning. "He asked two nights ago. I was so surprised."

Ron laughed and threw an arm around her shoulders, tugging her closer. "Surprised, my ass. She was waiting for it to happen," he told everyone. "I'm sweating bullets and get down on one knee in the middle of this park, wet grass and dirt everywhere, and she just stares at me, like she's waiting for it to happen. I was so nervous, I could have died."

Everyone laughed and Ron grinned again. He reached down for his glass of champagne and raised it up. Everyone followed suit and Hermione hesitated. After a second, she picked hers up also.

"A toast," Ron said, "to my beautiful fiancée for saying yes to a man who now has grass stains on his best suit."

They all laughed and clinked their glasses together. Hermione pretended to take a drink while everyone else did. Harry raised his glass next and she raised hers almost unwillingly.

"To Ron and Mandy, may they have a happy life together."

Another clink and pretend sip of the alcohol in her hands and Hermione set her glass down, hoping no one would notice that the golden liquid had not gone down at all.

After a few more words, they moved to the living room. The couples sat down together on the couches and Hermione was left to sit alone in an armchair. She watched them all almost longingly, listening to them talk together, laughing at jokes, and telling stories. She heard Ron's ideas for the wedding and Mandy even offered her opinion on some things.

After a while, Padma asked Hermione if she was seeing anyone.

Hermione shook her head. "No, not seeing anyone at the moment."

"Well, what if we set you up?" Padma asked. "I know a really great guy who comes into the restaurant all the time. He's very smart. I'm sure you'd get along."

Harry laughed before Hermione could respond. "Don't try setting her up, Padma. I already suggested it and she shot me down."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I just don't think a set-up is the best way to meet someone."

"But it could work out," Padma pointed out. "A lot of people end up marrying someone they met on a blind date."

"Yes, well, I won't be one of those," Hermione said.

A silence followed this and Harry turned the conversation away from Hermione, sensing her reserve.

Ron didn't seem to notice. He was too busy paying all his attention to Mandy. His hand was constantly in hers and they seemed to be off in their own little world. Hermione watched them for a moment, oblivious to the conversation going on around her.

She saw Ron whisper something in Mandy's ear and her giggle. Ron then smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek, while his fingers rubbed against her palms lovingly.

After a while, Hermione couldn't take it and she excused herself to the bathroom. Once there, she shut the door behind her and turned to the mirror, staring at her reflection. Her hazel eyes stared back at her looking tired and worried.

Being with all the happy couples was almost too much. She violently wished she had a relationship like that. If only it was possible.

Hermione gave a start as a knock sounded on the door.

"Hermione?" She heard Padma's voice calling softly through the door. "Hermione, can I come in?"

Hermione paused for a second, biting her lip. Finally, she opened the door and Padma slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. She turned to Hermione, her expression concerned. Her eyes traveled over Hermione's nice dress and up to her face that was done up nicely with makeup. She looked perfectly fine on the outside.

"Are you alright?" Padma asked her.

Hermione sighed and pushed her hair back. "I'm fine," she said. "Just a little tired."

Padma was silent for a moment, and then, "Is this about Ron and Mandy?"

"What?" Hermione asked. "No, God, no. I'm very happy for them."

"Are you sure? Because you seemed a bit out of it earlier, after their announcement."

"No, I'm so glad they're engaged. They deserve it. Really."

Padma didn't look convinced. "You didn't toast them."

"I did," Hermione said, silently cursing herself. She knew she should have done something with her champagne. Padma was too observant for her own good, damn Ravenclaws.

"You didn't drink, though," Padma pointed out suspiciously. "What's going on, Hermione? You've been acting strange lately, and not just tonight. Harry said you've canceled lunches a few times."

"My stomach isn't feeling very well," Hermione said, which wasn't exactly a lie. "And I've just had so much work lately. Harry knows how important my work is."

Padma still didn't look convinced but she backed off. "Alright," she said finally. "But you know you can talk to me. I'm not just Harry's girlfriend. I'd like to think we're friends too. I'm not like Lavender, you know. I can keep secrets."

Hermione smiled. "I know. And I appreciate that fact, but I'm fine, really. I just… I'm not feeling well. I hope you don't mind, but I think I'm going to go home and get a good night's rest."

"Of course not," Padma said understandingly, opening the bathroom door and letting Hermione pass before following her out.

They went back to the living room where Hermione made her excuses, garnering her hugs from Harry and Ron and a promise that they would all have lunch soon. Hermione's last glimpse of the house was of Ron and Mandy laughing together, looking happier than ever.

Hermione felt a lump rising in her throat as the door closed and she turned around, holding her coat tightly and Apparating away.

OoOoO

"Where's the blond bimbo?"

Blaise turned as he heard a yell over the thumping bass that pounded through the huge speakers flanking the DJ. Across the table, Pansy was stirring her orange and yellow drink with a straw and waiting for Blaise's answer, her eyebrow raised interestedly, her mouth twisting into a smirk.

"Threw her back," Blaise answered, shouting over the music to be heard. Pansy just nodded and smirked knowingly.

"Going to find another?" she asked, glancing around the thudding club, watching as strobe lights flashed over the writhing crowd in front of them. "I'm sure you could find one mummy dearest would approve of here."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Pansy. What about you? I don't think Robert would like you being here."

"Haven't you heard?" Pansy asked, taking a sip of her drink. "Robert was so last week. I'm in the market for a new beau."

"New, richer beau," Blaise replied and Pansy grinned mischievously.

"Perhaps."

At that moment, another person emerged from the crowd and climbed into the third seat at their table.

"Fuck, it's like a sauna in there," Draco said, squirming in his clothes. "And I hate these Muggle clothes. They're so uncomfortable."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "They're in fashion now, Draco. And they're not that bad. I happen to like them."

"Yeah, only because you can be even more of a slut and get away with it in that thing you're wearing. Don't know if it's long enough to even be considered clothes."

Pansy glanced down at the mini-skirt that was indeed only several inches long, showing off her long legs that were made even longer by the spike heels she was sporting. She shrugged and looked at Blaise. "Maybe it's because you can't pull it off quite like Blaise can," she said to Draco. "He looks hot. You look uncomfortable."

"Well, I am," Draco snipped moodily.

Blaise rolled his eyes as Pansy continued to poke fun at Draco, comparing his clothes to Blaise. Blaise was wearing a pair of Muggle jeans and a dress shirt, not much different from his normal dress. Though his mother didn't approve of the new Muggle fashion trends, he liked them. They were much easier to move in than in robes.

While Pansy and Draco bickered, Blaise slipped away from the table unseen, moving into the undulating crowd, quickly finding many a willing dance partner. He danced with a few girls, each one moving as close to his body as possible, but he wasn't interested.

After changing partners a few times, he found a rather attractive girl. She was thin with dark brown hair and her clothes seemed to be adhered to her body. A quick whisper in her ear and Blaise was leading her over to the table where Draco and Pansy were still sitting, Pansy sipping her drink and Draco shifting moodily in his clothes.

"Draco, Pansy," Blaise said, taking the girl to the table, "this is Holly."

Draco's appraising eye was on the girl immediately and Pansy simply sat back.

"Nice to meet you," Pansy said. "I don't suppose you could tell me who the Minister is?"

"Who?" the girl giggled, and Pansy nodded.

She turned to Blaise. "Your mother would be proud."

Blaise rolled his eyes. They always seemed to want to drag his mother into anything that involved a girl. It wasn't like he planned to marry Holly. Hell, he probably wouldn't remember her name the next day.

"Yes, well, we're leaving," Blaise said, smirking as Holly stood on her tiptoes beside him, biting his earlobe. He quirked an eyebrow at Pansy who scoffed. Draco said nothing. "Don't wait u—"

Blaise was interrupted mid-sentence as there was a flash of light and after it cleared, a small piece of paper fluttered to the tabletop.

Blaise's eyebrows furrowed as he saw his name written across it. He picked it up quickly before either Pansy or Draco had the chance to. Unfolding it, he scanned it quickly and seemingly didn't react.

Then he looked up, his expression indiscernible. "I have to go," he said suddenly and both Draco and Pansy looked at him sharply.

"What is it?" Pansy asked.

"Nothing," Blaise said. "Just somethi—I just have to go." He turned to Holly, who looked confused. "Sorry, darling. Maybe some other time."

"Where are you going?" Draco demanded.

"Nowhere. I just have to go." With a kiss on Holly's cheek, Blaise grabbed his jacket and turned, pushing his way to the exit.

Pansy and Draco looked at each other for a moment, waiting until Holly left them, disappearing into the crowd.

"What was that?" Pansy asked.

"He's hiding something," Draco said, still watching the direction Blaise had left in.

"Yes, but what?"

Draco shrugged, picking up his drink. "Maybe he's fucking his tailor. It would explain his clothes."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "You're just jealous that he looks so much better in leather pants than you do."

Draco scoffed and looked away. "I look plenty hot in leather pants, I'll have you know."

Pansy smiled, hiding her laugh behind her glass. "I'm sure."

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	8. In the Night

"Hermione?" Blaise knocked on the door to Hermione's flat carefully. When no one answered, he looked down at the note in his hand.

_Blaise, come to my flat, please,_ it read in a handwriting he was quite familiar with. He frowned as he reread the note and knocked on the door again.

"Hermione!" he called through the door. "Are you in there?" He paused, listening closely. There was no response and he sighed. He glanced out the window at the end of the hallway, only seeing the pitch black sky. It was around eleven o'clock at night, early for Blaise.

He paused another second before reaching for the doorknob and turning it. To his surprise, it was unlocked and he went in. The apartment was dark except for a lamp sitting on a table next to the couch in the living room.

He followed the light, wondering why she had called him. He found Hermione sitting on the couch, still done up from the night. Her hair was falling over her shoulders as she sat on the couch, her head bowed. Her dress was a little wrinkled but otherwise looked fine.

Blaise raised an eyebrow as he took in her appearance. His gaze moved from Hermione to the coffee table in front of her that was littered with books about pregnancy. He took a seat in the adjacent arm chair and waited.

Hermione sat on the couch, staring at the floor as if in concentration. She had heard Blaise come in and knew he was sitting in the chair, waiting for her explanation of why she'd called him.

Ever since she'd left Harry's house, she'd been thinking about everything. She'd come home and sat down on the couch in the exact position she was in. Her table was covered in books she'd bought from the large bookstore in the middle of town. She'd even Owl ordered a few about magical pregnancies just to be sure.

She'd picked up one of the books and gotten through the first chapter before she put it down. An overwhelming feeling of inadequacy had come over her. Ever since she'd found out she was pregnant, she'd felt like her world had collapsed out from under her. She hadn't felt like herself in weeks. She hated keeping this from everyone but knew it was necessary. She felt like she had lost the rational part of her.

So she had set out to get it back by doing what she did best; research. She'd begun reading books, as many books as she could get her hands on. She felt safer when she knew exactly what was going on.

Knowledge was her safety blanket and she'd needed to get that back. She knew Blaise was smart too, but his intelligence was more of an instinctual intelligence rather than acquired knowledge. If he had chosen to put his brains to use, he would have limitless possibilities open to him.

Hermione knew this. She knew this was why he always opted for the casual option, such as letting things happen as they would rather than predicting and planning. He was much more able to adapt to new and different situations than Hermione.

Hermione needed something more than a casual reassurance, which is why she turned to books. Books were made of facts, something she knew to be true, something that could tell her exactly what was going to happen.

Tonight, at Harry and Ron's dinner, Hermione had seen so many happy couples. Happiness was something books couldn't predict.

Blaise sat in silence, beginning to grow impatient as it stretched longer. Finally, he sighed, sitting up.

"Hermione, why am I here?"

Hermione didn't look at him immediately, instead, raising her gaze to the dark window, outside of which was only the yellow glow of streetlights and other buildings.

"Are we doing the right thing?" she asked finally.

"What do you mean?" Blaise said, watching her carefully.

"I mean," she said, taking a breath, "do you think we're doing the right thing here? You know, having this baby."

"Well, it's a little late to take it back," Blaise drawled coolly. He didn't know why she was asking this now.

Hermione was quiet for a moment, gazing out the window. "Is it a mistake?"

"How so?"

"Blaise, we're not a couple. You broke up with me months ago. This shouldn't have happened." Hermione paused, seemingly gathering herself. Blaise watched her carefully, edging off his seat and moving over to the couch slowly. "We're not happy. We're not together. We didn't plan this. It's not how it's supposed to go."

"And how would you have it go?" Blaise asked carefully.

Hermione laughed for a second and glanced up at him. "Well, it'd be nice if we liked each other."

Blaise didn't say anything, watching as Hermione looked away, bowing her head again. "I always thought people who had children liked each other, at least a little. Children are supposed to be planned by people who want them."

Blaise didn't know what to say. He knew she felt this way, but wondered what had happened to bring it all up again, though at least this time she was discussing it in her usual rational manner.

"Hermione," he said finally, "if you really think we're not ready, there are always other options."

Hermione glanced at him sharply. "You mean adoption?"

Blaise shrugged. "It's an option if you don't think we can handle this. But I think we can."

"You do?" she asked, finally turning towards him.

He scooted closer to her on the couch. "Yes, but… why is this coming up now? What happened?"

Hermione sighed. "I went to dinner at Harry's tonight and Ron and Mandy were there. They're engaged and when they announced it, all I could think was that they're happy. They're getting married and eventually they'll have kids. But they'll be ready and expect it to happen. I'm not married. I'm not even dating anyone. In seven months, I'm going to be a mother and I don't know what to do."

Blaise was silent as he took in what she said. He knew she was worried about the future and what it held for them. It wasn't exactly as he'd thought it would turn out either. He knew she was operating under a lot of stress, which was completely understandable.

When he glanced at Hermione, he was surprised to find that she was crying, if only a little and very quietly. He hesitated, never having been very talented with emotional women.

"Hermione, it's okay," he said awkwardly, moving next to her and not knowing what to do as she leaned into him. He placed his hand on her back comfortingly and listened to the silence, knowing she was still crying. He felt her hand clutching his shirt near his waist.

"Blaise?" she asked, lifting her head slightly. "Do you really believe we can do this?"

Blaise looked down at her, noting how close her lips were. "I do."

They stared at each other for a second before Hermione's hand slid up his chest and her lips were pressed against Blaise's. Her eyes closed as Blaise returned the kiss, his lips sliding over hers and his hand coming to her jaw, pushing her hair back.

She whimpered as Blaise took over the kiss, biting her lower lip. She pressed herself closer, wanting to feel his hard body against hers. Her hand was on his chest, gripping his shirt tightly as they kissed.

She was surprised as Blaise pulled away, leaving her panting slightly.

"Hermione," he murmured, "is this hormones or something else?"

Hermione looked up at him and swallowed, releasing his shirt and letting her hand fall to his waist. "Please, Blaise, can we just not think about this?"

Before Blaise could respond, she was kissing him again, sliding her body into his lap, her hand gliding down his cheek to his neck. Her kisses were short, teasing, waiting for him to jump in. After a second, he responded, pushing back against her body as he took over the kiss.

Their lips slid together in an explosion of heat and passion, pressing together, tongues probing the other's mouth. Blaise's hand moved to Hermione's back, pulling her closer as their kisses became harder, more possessive.

Hermione's hair was falling in her face, but Blaise pushed it back, tangling his fingers in the long locks. Hermione's moan was muffled in Blaise's mouth as his fingers brushed over her neck. She shifted in his lap, her knees sliding on either side of his thighs.

Blaise's hand released her hair, gliding down her neck and over her bare shoulder to rest on her waist. He could feel the soft cotton of her dress under his fingers. His other hand was resting on her thigh that was also covered by her dress which she was still wearing from dinner.

After a few quick kisses, Hermione pulled back, climbing off Blaise. She reached up slowly and carefully pulled down the zipper on her dress. Blaise stood up also, moving towards her and she backed away, moving to the bedroom.

As she walked backwards, she pulled the straps of her dress down and the bodice, revealing the black and pink strapless bra she'd been wearing. She could feel Blaise's gaze on her body as she did so and stopped walking just before the bed.

Blaise stepped into the room after her, closing the door behind them and flicking on a low lamp across the room. It was just barely enough light to see by. His eyes were on Hermione as she slipped the dress off completely, leaving her in just her undergarments.

His eyes moved from her legs, past the black knickers and up her smooth stomach. Here, he paused, thinking that soon it would not be so flat. He shook himself and moved his gaze upward, traveling over her torso and chest to her face that was framed with her dark hair. Her eyes were smoldering and he knew she was waiting.

Moving forward quickly, he placed his hands on her hips, guiding her back until they hit the bed and fell onto it. He pushed himself up and quickly got rid of his shirt and pants, at once feeling Hermione's hands running over his chest.

He moved over her carefully, leaning in to give her a soft kiss. He heard her sigh and moved back, pressing kisses down her jaw bone and to her neck where he lavished attention to her throat, his tongue and teeth sliding over the soft flesh as her body moved beneath his.

His hand was gliding over her smooth stomach, sliding down to her thigh, rubbing the warm flesh there. He heard her breathy moan as his fingers moved under the edge of her lace knickers, tugging them down slowly.

He glanced up at her, seeing her eyes close as he kissed her neck. With a last lick, he slid further down, pressing kisses to her chest and torso. His hot tongue slid down her torso, trailing past her ribs to her bellybutton.

He pressed a kiss to her hip, nipping at the spot just above her pelvic bone. He knew she was ready for him, and he'd been waiting a long time. With another nip to her hip, he moved back up, pressing a hard kiss to her lips, then moving to her neck, just below her ear. He nipped at the skin, hearing her moan in his ear.

"Ready?" he breathed, his hand brushing her hair back.

"Yes," she gasped, her body moving against his, feeling his hard cock pressing against her thigh.

After a second's pause, Blaise moved back, reaching over in the dim light to her bedside cabinet. In the bottommost drawer, he found what he was looking for. He had always stashed condoms and lube in her drawer while they'd been dating and hadn't ever bothered to remove them. Neither had she, he noticed.

Fishing one out, he put it on himself, then took some lube out, spreading it over his erect cock. He gave an involuntary groan as he touched himself. He slid his slick fingers over Hermione's inner thigh, loving the way she squirmed under his touch.

He was rewarded a sharp gasp as his fingers plunged into her body. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her navel before shifting his position and adding another finger, pumping them in and out of her body, finding that spot that caused her to shudder every time he rubbed it. 

"Bla-aise," she gasped as he pushed his fingers in again.

Glancing at her, he removed his fingers carefully and moved forward, giving her a lasting kiss before sliding back down. Positioning himself, he pressed his cock into her body slowly, giving her time to adjust.

He felt the hot muscles contract over his cock and closed his eyes momentarily. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Hermione's jaw as one hand slid around her arched back, toying with the clasp of her bra. He got it undone quickly and pulled it off, exposing her soft, round breasts.

He ran his hand over her breast softly as he pulled his body back then slid back in, earning himself a gasp from Hermione. Leaning into her neck, he concentrated on positioning his body the way he knew she liked best.

Hermione could only feel the blanket of heat that was coating her body as Blaise moved inside her. He always knew what to do, like no other man could. She could feel his hot, harsh breath on her neck and it drove her crazy. Her hands were around his waist, gripping the warm flesh as his hips moved against hers.

Blaise's breath was short as he thrust into her body, biting his lip as her muscles squeezed his cock every time he slid back in. He could hear Hermione's gasps in his ear whenever he changed position. Her whimpers and moans only fueled him to go faster.

Her hand moved to his shoulder, gliding over his muscles to rest on his back. She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his collarbone as he moved inside her, setting her insides on fire. She heard his appreciative groan and smiled to herself.

Her mouth slid over his neck, kissing his throat, licking his pulse point. She buried her face in his neck with a gasp as his hips connected with hers, sending a shooting wave of heat over her body. She could feel the thin layer of sweat on his body and the warmth he was giving out.

"Fuck, Hermione," Blaise cursed suddenly, pushing his cock back into her body.

"Ohh," Hermione cried, her back arching as a sudden jolt of electricity shot through her body. "Blaise, Blaise, don't stop," she whispered as her orgasm took her over, running all the way down to her toes.

Blaise felt her shudder underneath him and heard the desperate whisper in his ear. He pushed her hair back from her ear, pressing a kiss to her neck just below it. "I won't."

Hermione didn't hear him, only felt the overwhelming feeling taking over her body.

"Oh, fuck," Blaise cursed, shutting his eyes tightly as he came suddenly. His hips kept moving, thrusting into Hermione's body on their own accord as his climax came over him, waves of heat crashing against his body.

At long last, both of them seemed to come down from their highs, no one worse for the wear. Blaise rolled to the side, pulling out of her and laying down on the bed.

He took a deep breath and sighed. It wasn't exactly what he'd planned on doing when he got there, but he couldn't deny that he had wanted it. He glanced over at Hermione to find that she was falling asleep.

"Hermione," he said quietly, reaching out and stroking his fingers through her long, dark hair.

"Yeah?" she murmured, her eyes barely open.

Blaise paused. "Never mind." He pulled back his hand slowly.

Hermione didn't respond, only scooted closer to him, laying her hand on his chest and sighing contentedly. Blaise pushed away the twist in his stomach and reached for his wand, extinguishing the lamp in the corner, then settled into the bed, closing his eyes and falling asleep. 


	9. The Morning After

Hermione turned over in the dim light leaking through her curtained window. She groaned softly. She didn't want to get up. Keeping her eyes closed, she rolled over, burying her face in her pillow.

She lay there for a few seconds, wishing it wasn't morning. She wasn't looking forward to facing Harry and trying to explain what had happened the night before. She had left with a weak excuse and though Harry could be thick at times, he wasn't completely stupid.

With a sigh into her pillow, she rolled back over, staring at the ceiling. She had to get up and go to work. It was inevitable.

With a resigned sigh, she turned over to her other side. It was empty. She paused, staring at the spot where she knew someone should be. The pillow was depressed and the covers mussed.

"Blaise?" she asked, pushing herself halfway up. She glanced around her room, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

There were no shoes on the ground, no men's clothes anywhere, nothing. It was perfectly in order as it always was. No book was out of place.

Pushing herself completely up, she frowned. "Blaise?" she called. There was no answer.

She slid out of the bed, noticing that she was still naked, Grabbing a bathrobe, she quickly pulled it on and put on her slippers. Moving carefully, she plodded out to the living room. Here, there was no sign of anything out of the ordinary either except her shoes that were lying in a jumbled pile by the couch. She remembered taking them off there the night before.

Peering around the room, she surmised that Blaise wasn't there. Going into the kitchen, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. She frowned, walking around the counter, looking for some kind of note.

There was none. In fact, there was no trace that Blaise had been there at all. She could remember back when they had first started dating he used to disappear like this in the morning.

Hermione sighed and stopped looking, placing her hand on the counter. She didn't know what she had expected of last night, but she had hoped he wouldn't just bail.

She stood at the counter, feeling herself crumble.

_Stop,_ she told herself. _You've been far too emotional lately. You have to focus and be calm and rational. It's the only way to get through this in one piece. Falling to pieces every time something goes wrong will not help._

With that thought, she took a long, calming breath and closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, she looked around herself, knowing she would have to continue on her own.

She prepared for work, trying not to think about Blaise. Her life was complicated enough and last night hadn't helped anything.

She didn't know what had come over her. One moment, she was trying to figure out if keeping this baby was the right decision and the next she was throwing herself at the man who'd been the cause of it all.

She had no feelings for Blaise anymore, she thought. She'd made the mistake of letting him back into her life but that hadn't changed how she felt about him. Their breakup had been hard on her. But in the end, she'd let go of it all, right?

She tried not to dwell on her past feelings for Blaise. They only tended to make her sad. There had always been something special about Blaise. They'd only dated for a few months, but Hermione had been almost certain during those months that he was the one. Or, he was until he'd broken her heart.

Now, she didn't want to think about it. No, she couldn't. Thinking about what she had wanted so long ago and how impossible it all seemed now was not the right thing to do. She needed to focus on the future, not the past.

Mentally preparing herself, Hermione checked herself in the mirror and sighed before Apparating to work.

OoOoO

A week passed and there was no word from Blaise. Hermione distracted herself with work and research. She didn't want to think why he hadn't contacted her, why he was avoiding her, why she hadn't seen him since they had…

He was busy. That's what she told herself. He wasn't ignoring her. He had a demanding job and social life. She thought that maybe his mother had found another debutant for him to play with. Perhaps that was the reason for his lack of communication.

She didn't want to think about it. It wasn't important. She could do this without him.

She made up a diet from the books she'd read and the pamphlets the Healer had given her. She bought organic fruits and vegetables, making sure to eat a balanced diet with all the vitamins a baby would need.

She started exercising, keeping in good shape so the baby would be healthier. She listened to classical music like Mozart, Beethoven, and Tchaikovsky. She found that it was not only good for the baby, it also seemed to calm her down. Listening to the symphonies of Mozart made her feel relaxed and less stressed, which was a very important thing considering the father of her child hadn't contacted her in over a week.

The second week of no contact from Blaise came and went. By now, Hermione was becoming concerned. Surely just sleeping with him couldn't have caused this distance. Maybe something had happened to him. There had been nothing in the _Prophet_.

So Hermione had written to him. She sent him an owl two Thursdays after their last meeting. It was merely an inquiry of where he'd been, something a friend would write.

She was relieved when she got an Owl back the next day, but was disappointed when it only said he was busy and he would contact her when he could. At least she knew he was alright. That was her only consolation.

Was he really avoiding her so much? Had she done something to drive him away? She had no idea what it could have been.

She was nearly three months into her pregnancy now and she was beginning to see clear signs. The other day, she'd had an incredibly craving for pears and pickles and it was only satisfied when she snuck out of her office early for a sort of 'pick-me-up' at the local fruit and vegetable vendor.

As she had stuffed her face with pears, she realized she'd just had a craving, an odd one at that. But then, she supposed, they were called cravings because you couldn't control them. She just hoped next time it was something a little less messy.

Harry had come around the week after their dinner, enquiring after her health. She'd lied and said she was fine. She wasn't sure if Harry believed her, but she couldn't do much more. It was still far too early to reveal everything. If she did, Harry would be furious and potentially go after Blaise. She couldn't have him killing anyone.

She dreaded the thought of telling her parents. Blaise had met them once, and only once. He'd made a decent impression, but had come off slightly cold. That had been near the end of the relationship as he had pulled further and further away from her.

Her parents didn't think very highly of him and wouldn't be likely to if they found out their perfect daughter was pregnant by him. The longer Hermione could shield them from that pain of crashing their vision of their daughter, the better.

She wanted to tell someone, but could think of no one. Anyone she might tell would either be angry at Blaise, disappointed in her, or likely to tell someone else. She didn't really have that many people she could trust and all those she did would have some opinion about it, whether good or bad.

The second week passed without a word from Blaise and Hermione began to wonder if she would ever hear from him again. He had said he wanted to be involved. He'd told her he would be there. She wasn't sure if she believed him anymore.

Harry seemed to sense her mood shift in the past few weeks and invited her to a barbeque he was putting on the next week, seeing as the July weather was very nice and it would be his birthday soon. In light of Blaise's disappearance, she accepted, hoping to get her mind off of what he may or may not be doing.

OoOoO

Hermione dressed for Harry's party carefully. She wasn't showing yet but wanted to be extra careful, just in case. She knew it wouldn't be long before she was. Then it would be even more difficult to hide.

She wore a flowery party dress that had a high waist, hiding her stomach and anything that may or may not be showing. Her hair was pulled back into a loose bun and she dabbed a bit of red lipstick on her lips in preparation.

Glancing at her reflection, she guessed she was as ready as she'd ever be to face everyone. It would be the first time since getting pregnant that she would be in a large group of people. She knew she would be around happy couples, happy families, children, all that. She would have to tough it out this time, no more faking sick and leaving, although lately she'd been getting sick in the mornings. She figured it was morning sickness, which didn't make her feel any better.

Giving herself a shake, Hermione took a breath. She had to be ready to make a good impression. If anyone thought she wasn't feeling well, she would be in for some awkward questions.

Brushing back a stray hair, Hermione smiled briefly at the mirror, who told her she looked very pretty. With a sigh, she Apparated to Harry's house, knocking on the door.

It was thrown open moments later by a happy Harry, who ushered her inside and to the backyard.

"Hermione's here!" he announced as they went outside.

There was a great hello from many people and Hermione smiled. All the Weasley's were there; Ginny with her boyfriend John, Fred with his wife Katie and their twins, Karen and Shain, George, Charlie, Bill and Fleur and their daughter, Veronique. The only person missing was Percy, which wasn't surprising.

Ron was standing with Mandy, his hand on her back as he chatted with some other friends. He sent Hermione a smile as she entered, which she returned, quickly turning her gaze from them. Mrs. Weasley hurried over to her when she arrived, pulling her into a hug.

"Hermione, my dear, you look wonderful," Mrs. Weasley said, pulling back.

Hermione blushed slightly. "Thank you, as do you."

"Oh, no need to flatter," Mrs. Weasley laughed. She turned around, looking for someone. "Where is Arthur? I'm sure he'd like to say hello."

"That's alright," Hermione said politely. "I'm sure I'll see him later."

Mrs. Weasley shrugged. "He's probably off inspecting the gill, or whatever that thing they're using to cook is." She rolled her eyes. "So, Hermione, how've you been, dear? Harry tells me you're working hard."

"Oh, yes," Hermione said, avoiding her eyes. "Very hard."

"Well, don't work too hard. I'm always telling Arthur. That Ministry works everyone too hard. You never have a moment's rest in that place."

Hermione smiled but didn't respond. She felt bad lying to Mrs. Weasley when she was always so nice.

"Oh, no," Mrs. Weasley sighed. "He's holding some metal thing. Arthur!" She left Hermione to go after her husband. Hermione decided it would be better not to mention that it was only a salad toss.

Instead, she turned and wandered over to the table where there was food spread out, kind of like a potluck. Picking up a carrot, she munched on it thoughtfully.

Looking around the yard, she thought how lucky she was to have people like the Weasleys and her friends in her life. She finished her carrot and reached for another one as she heard a voice to her right.

"Karen! What did mummy say about Transfiguring snakes?"

Katie was reprimanding her four-year old daughter, who was holding what looked like Fred's wand and pointing at a snake who ironically seemed to have developed a curtain of greasy hair and hook nose.

Katie sighed as she stood up and her daughter ran away, going to play with her sister. Hermione saw Katie put Fred's wand in her pocket and smile as she watched her daughter.

"Are they a handful?" Hermione asked and Katie glanced over.

"Yes, and Fred doesn't help," she replied. "Seems he's already teaching them the evils of Potions."

Hermione chuckled as she watched the snake trying to slither away, but having troubles due to its impaired vision. She glanced at the two girls as they played together and got a twist in her gut.

"Was it hard, at first?" she asked Katie.

"Yeah," Katie said, "but it got easier. I think maybe it seemed harder than it should have been because they're twins. At the rate they're going, they'll be the next Fred and George to grace Hogwarts."

"I guess Fred will be proud, then," Hermione said, smiling.

Katie smiled too, glancing fondly at her husband, who was kneeling next to his daughters, presumably showing them something. "He is. And he does help, just not when it comes to pranks."

They watched the little girls scream and run away as Fred showed them something, but they came running back seconds later, giggling happily.

"You're lucky, Katie," Hermione said, sighing.

Katie glanced at her, her expression questioning. "What do you mean?"

"You've got Fred and two wonderful daughters."

Katie paused, then smiled sadly at Hermione. "Don't worry. There's someone out there for you too. Who knows, maybe soon that'll be your kid."

Hermione laughed quietly and muttered, "Maybe sooner than you think," but Katie didn't hear.

"Oh," Katie said, watching as Shain fell down. "Looks like I have to do some damage control. It was nice talking to you."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed quietly, watching Katie go to her daughter who was crying on the ground.

Turning away from the sight, Hermione watched the rest of the Weasley family. Ron and Mandy looked as happy as ever and as she turned, the ring on Mandy's finger sparkled in the sun. Hermione bit her lip and turned to the table behind her, grabbing a bottled water.

She moved back into the crowd, greeting people and attempting to hold normal conversations. She managed most of the small talk until she'd said hello to everyone present.

Harry soon announced the food was ready and everyone clambered for a plate. Hermione hung back, waiting a bit. As the wind shifted, she could smell the whiff of barbeque sauce. The smell gave her an immediate headache and she could feel her stomach churning.

Quickly, she moved to the side, hoping no one would notice. She felt a bit feint but was determined not to let it affect anyone. Taking a breath, she moved again, out of the wind's direction and the headache lessened. Wiping her forehead, she sighed. That had been close.

When everyone had gotten their food, Hermione grabbed a plate and filled it with some food, not really intending to eat any of it. She munched on carrots and strawberries while everyone around her talked and laughed. She just didn't feel a part of it anymore. She was separate from everyone else.

She listened with a growing feeling of sadness as they all told stories. Fred and Katie's stories about their kids got many laughs from everyone, except Hermione. She was envious, envious of their life. She wanted to be married with a child whom she could tell amusing anecdotes about.

Instead, she was hiding a pregnancy from her closest friends. Half an hour later, as the afternoon dwindled, many people were still chatting happily. Hermione was standing to the side, thinking about everything that had happened.

She was surprised as Padma popped up beside where she stood, leaning against the buffet table.

"Enjoying yourself?" she asked. "I was so glad when Harry said you'd agreed to come. I love your dress, by the way."

"Oh, thank you," Hermione said, taking a sip of her water. "Yes, I thought since it was Harry's birthday and all, or will be soon, it would be nice to see everyone."

Padma paused, looking at Hermione. "You didn't look well earlier."

"Didn't I?" Hermione asked, hating that Padma was so observant.

"Well, you looked a little sick," Padma said. "You're not, right? I mean, Harry would be devastated if you had some kind of sickness."

"No, I'm not," Hermione said, horrified that she would even think that, but given all the facts, it might seem that way to someone who didn't know the awful truth. "I've just been—"

"Working," Padma finished the sentence. "Yes, I know. You've been doing that a lot. I know you're a perfectionist, but it isn't usually this bad."

"Bad?" Hermione repeated.

Padma shrugged, looking away from Hermione and back at the crowd gathered in the yard. "I just mean you've been a little M.I.A lately. Harry and Ron have been getting concerned."

"Oh," Hermione said, silently berating herself for letting them know anything was wrong. She should be able to act better. "I don't want them to worry. Nothing's going on. I'm perfectly fine."

Padma was silent for a moment. "Well, good. So you're not going to cancel your lunch in two weeks?"

"Of course not," Hermione said, hoping she was telling the truth. "I love having lunch with them. It's like old times."

Padma nodded. "Okay, in that case, I'm glad you could come. It's good to know things are alright." After a brief hug, Padma left her standing by the table, hating herself. Lying had never been one of her strong suits, especially lying to people as nice as Padma.

The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly enough. Harry opened his presents, looking oddly surprised at Hermione's gift, a singing alarm clock.

"Uh, thanks, Hermione," he said, looking perplexed.

Hermione just laughed to herself. Most of the gifts she got Harry and Ron these days were simply to see how crazy and odd and unpractical they could be before they finally said something. So far, she'd given Ron a toaster that imprinted Winnie the Pooh's face on the toast, knowing full well that Ron had never used a toaster in his life.

She enjoyed seeing their confusion and their attempts to look pleased, when she knew they didn't understand at all. She had figured since they never seemed to like her gifts, she might as well go all out.

As the afternoon came to a close, the party slowly disbanded, everyone saying their goodbyes to Harry and Padma. Hermione hugged Harry, promising she'd see more of him.

Just before she Apparated back to her flat, she saw Harry kissing Padma happily under the twilight sky. The smile she'd had on her face before fell slowly and she turned away, leaving in a crack.

As she pushed open the door of her flat, she sighed. She didn't know how many more 'family gatherings' she could go to without going crazy. She closed the door slowly behind her and set down her purse. Sinking down in the armchair, she set her chin in her hands that were propped up on her knees and sighed.

Looking out the large window in front of her, watching the darkening sky, she wondered where Blaise was and if he was ever coming back.

_

* * *

A/N: Don't kill me? It shall be understood eventually..._


	10. The Other Side of the Fence

A dove cooed softly as it landed on the back of a white metal chair. It took off moments later as a man in the next chair waved it away with a disgusted scowl. The dove fluttered upward and flew just a few feet until it landed on the pavement and began pecking at unseen pieces of food.

"More coffee, sir?"

Blaise looked away from the dove and at the waitress who was standing next to his table.

"No, thank you," he said simply and the girl smiled, turning and leaving. He sighed and fingered the handle of his cup thoughtfully.

His gaze traveled upwards until it fell on the woman sitting across from him. Pansy was watching him, her gaze calculating. He frowned and picked up his cup, taking a sip.

"So, Blaise," Pansy said, leaning forward towards him, "last week at the club, you left rather abruptly."

Blaise made a noise of agreement. "Yes, it was an urgent story the _Prophet_ couldn't wait for."

Pansy regarded him for a second, then sat back. "I didn't see anything big in the paper."

Blaise shrugged. "Surprised you even read the paper."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "I read more than you think," she said. "I also read more into things than you think."

Blaise didn't reply. He wasn't really worried about Pansy figuring out his secret. She had never exactly been the sleuthing type. Draco tended to be a lot quicker on the uptake than Pansy had ever been.

"So who did you go to meet after you left us?" Pansy asked, tossing back her long, dark hair. She raised an eyebrow.

Blaise scoffed. "What I do and where I go is none of your business, Pansy."

Pansy shrugged. "I suppose, but as your friend I would think you might tell me what's going on."

"Secrets were never your forte," Blaise said simply. "As I recall, you can't even keep your own."

"So there is a secret?" Pansy asked, crossing her legs and sitting back in her chair.

"Of course there's a secret," Blaise said calmly. "Everyone has secrets."

"It was a girl, then? Someone mummy would approve of, I hope? You haven't been getting anywhere with her girls lately."

"You know, sometimes I think maybe you and my mother are working together," Blaise said.

"If we were, I'd be your wife," Pansy said blandly. "Your mother has always tried to force us together."

"She's moved on. She's going through a blonde phase."

Pansy laughed slightly and, noticing an attractive man watching her, uncrossed her legs, and leaned forward, exposing her cleavage a bit more. Blaise simply rolled his eyes. She was an unabashed flirt who had no trouble seducing men for a fun night. Admittedly, he was somewhat similar excepting a few major differences.

It had been two weeks since he'd last seen Hermione. He knew it was a mistake, but this whole thing had been one big mistake.

He had to admit that Hermione was right when she accused him of being at fault. It was his fault, whether he liked it or not.

He knew that after they broke up he shouldn't have gone back. He shouldn't have kept up some sort of pseudo-relationship.

Two weeks ago when Hermione had pulled him into her bed and he had touched her, tasted her just like he had done when they were dating, he'd realized something. He was getting too close, far too close. The thought had scared him and he'd taken off as soon as it was light out.

Leaving a pregnant woman alone after sleeping with her was not the most gentlemanlike thing to do, but Blaise had been panicked. He hadn't felt something like what he'd felt that night for a long time. He had known it was wrong and needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

He was sure Hermione was furious, or at least confused. He recalled doing something similar when they'd been dating. She hadn't liked it then either.

Now she was nearly three months along. It wouldn't be long until Hermione began exhibiting the symptoms of a pregnancy. Blaise didn't know how much longer they would really be able to hide the fact.

He wasn't worried about telling Draco or Pansy. Though they'd never quite liked Hermione on principle, they wouldn't be too judgmental. In their circle, something like this wasn't something to kill a person for. Blaise knew Hermione's friends were different. They were much more protective of her. They were sure to be angry.

Blaise would heed Hermione's wish, though, and not tell anyone until she thought they were ready. He wanted to respect her wishes, show that he could handle this. Of course, not contacting her for weeks probably wasn't the best way to show his responsibility. It was the only way, though.

Pansy was watching Blaise carefully as the silence settled around them. She turned her gaze from the brooding Italian to the street beyond the small café they were at. They were in an old part of town where the cobblestone street was eroding and only bikes really passed by.

The dove from before gave a startled coo as a bike zoomed by, splashing up water. The bird fluttered down on another empty chair, eyeing the empty table.

Pansy glanced back at Blaise, who was watching the dove with unseeing eyes. She raised an eyebrow. Something was definitely wrong with her old friend.

"Blaise," she said suddenly and he seemed to jerk out of a trance. "You know the last time I saw you like this?"

"Like what?" Blaise drawled, taking a sip of his lukewarm coffee.

"That kind of faraway look in your eye, like you're trying to decide the best course of action."

Blaise frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"It was when you were still with Granger, when you decided you were getting too close. It was when you decided to break away. As I recall, you broke her sad little Gryffindor heart, and we all know how fragile those are."

Blaise looked surprised. "What? That's ridiculous, Pansy."

"Is it?" she asked. "I swear it's the same look. I mean, Draco and I agreed Granger wasn't the best you could have chosen, but we didn't think your mother would influence you that much."

"Excuse me?" Blaise asked incredulously.

"Blaise, darling," Pansy said, imitating his mother. "Hermione's not the girl for you. You deserve someone better, a pureblood, sweetheart. She will never live up to what you need, what this family needs. Sound familiar?"

Blaise was frowning as Pansy finished. He shook his head. "That's not what she said."

"Tomayto, tomahto," Pansy said waving her hand. "It's irrelevant, Blaise. But whatever she said, it got in your head and you pulled away from Granger. We all saw it happen."

"Did you ever think maybe I didn't love her?" Blaise asked, growing irritated. "Maybe I didn't see a future."

Pansy laughed. "Blaise, the longest you ever dated anyone was three weeks. With Granger, you lasted nearly six months. We all thought you were going to propose."

"What?"

"It was obvious. You loved her. Of course we didn't approve, but hey, it's your happiness, not ours."

"I don't—I didn't love her," Blaise said. He couldn't believe Pansy was saying this. He'd never said anything to anyone about how he'd felt about Hermione. "I never said that."

"You didn't have to say it," Pansy said, scoffing. "Anyone could see it."

"Yeah, well, I didn't," Blaise said adamantly. "Hermione and I were just a passing thing. It wasn't going anywhere."

"Hermione, is she?" Pansy asked, carefully taking a sip of her tea while raising her eyebrows at Blaise.

Blaise was growing more frustrated by the second. He hated having people tell him how he felt, especially when he didn't even know.

"Pansy, just drop it. I broke up with her months ago. She's not in my life anymore."

Pansy shrugged unconvincingly. "Maybe you want her to be again."

Blaise stared at her. "Why would you say that?"

Pansy rolled her eyes as though he was being stupid. "Because she was the only one you ever cared about. All those girls after, your mother knows you don't want any of them. Why do you think she keeps pushing so many? She's trying to replace Granger, but knows she can't."

"You have got it all wrong, Pansy," Blaise said, wanting nothing more than to go home and forget about everything.

"Do I?" she asked. "Or am I right? You loved Granger, even if you never told her or even yourself, it was there."

"That's it," Blaise said, standing up abruptly. "I'm going home. This is a stupid conversation. I am not in love with Hermione, alright? And my mother was not the cause of our break-up. So if you'll excuse me."

With an annoyed huff, Blaise turned and left the table, striding down the street until he vanished around a corner.

Back at the table, Pansy did nothing for a second. Then she tossed her muffin to the dove that was milling around the ground and laughed. "Oh, Blaise, you weren't in love with her, or you aren't in love with her? The riddles of the English language."

And smiling to herself, Pansy said back in her chair, feeding the last of her crumbs to the dove before leaving too.

OoOoO

Blaise walked into his living room, brimming with frustration. He wanted to hit something, but instead had to settle for throwing himself angrily into an armchair.

He couldn't believe Pansy's audacity. Accusing his mother of specifically breaking him and Hermione up was absurd. His mother wanted him to be happy.

But he wasn't happy with Hermione. That's why he'd broken up with her in the first place, right? Right. She was too young, too innocent, too naïve. She had a faith in the world that just didn't exist. Of course, he supposed he had crushed that faith the day he broke up with her.

He remembered it like it was yesterday. He'd invited her over to his house for dinner and after the dessert, he remembered leaning forward and taking her hand. She'd looked beautiful that night, he remembered.

But that's all he remembered of what she looked like. After that, she looked devastated. He'd told her he couldn't see her anymore. He'd said she wasn't his type; she didn't have what he needed.

Parts of it had been a lie. Though now he didn't know what parts. The night seemed like a blur after that. He vaguely remembered her crying and refusing his help.

"Ow," he said as a feeling wrenched his gut as he sat in the chair, revisiting all his repressed memories.

He sat back and summoned a bottle of brandy and a glass. Pouring himself a glass, he took a gulp, hoping it would calm him down.

He knew he needed to contact Hermione. Two weeks without so much as an Owl was not good. He'd gotten on from her earlier in the week, but he'd simply replied shortly. He hadn't been interested in explaining himself because he simply didn't have an explanation.

Blaise knew he shouldn't have slept with her. He should have said no, pushed her away, put her to bed without himself in it. She had been in a fragile emotional state and he hadn't stopped her.

He was sure it had to do with that dinner she'd gone to. She'd mentioned something about Potter and Weasley and an engagement. Surely, an engagement announcement when one was pregnant and unmarried couldn't be very good for her emotional state.

When she'd kissed him, he didn't know what to do. It was instinctual when he'd kissed her back. He hadn't meant to, but the feel of her body against his always seemed to do something to his brain.

Sleeping with her was a bad idea, if not only for her sake. He couldn't risk falling back to what he'd been while dating her. As much as he hated to admit it, Pansy may have had a point.

But it was beside the point. He and Hermione, they didn't have much of a relationship now. He had never meant for it to go this far. He'd just missed the feeling of her body, the softness of her fingers, her tongue on his skin. It wasn't meant to go this far. He should never have come back.

It was too late now, though. He was involved with her and the twist he got in his stomach whenever he thought about her was growing stronger.

He had to contact her, and soon. He couldn't let her think he'd abandoned her. He needed to put his feelings, or whatever they were, aside so he could prove himself to her, and to the raising of his child.

Pouring himself another glass of brandy, he raised it to his lips, then sighed and set it back down.

This was going to be much harder than he'd originally thought, but he wasn't going to let anything interfere, especially not Pansy's voice that had somehow lodged itself in his brain.

_She was wrong_, he thought._ I didn't love Hermione. I don't. We're just having a child together… Yeah._

Blaise rolled his eyes at his own thoughts and downed the brandy in one gulp. Setting the glass down, he put his face in his hand. If he was going to figure out anything, he was going to need Hermione to do it.


	11. For Work or Pleasure

Hermione was sifting through a pile of parchment as a soft knock sounded on her office door

Hermione was sifting through a pile of parchment as a soft knock sounded on her office door. Glancing up, she paused, but after a moment, arranged the parchment into a neat pile.

"Come in," she called professionally, remaining sitting in her chair.

The door creaked open and a man stepped in, shutting it carefully behind him.

"Blaise," Hermione said, surprised. "You're here." She paused, as though trying to figure why he was there. "Wh—but you—I haven't seen you in—"

"Since we slept together, yes," Blaise finished her sentence, sitting down in the chair opposite her.

"I thought you weren't coming back," she said slowly, watching him. His legs were crossed casually and he was leaning back in the chair, not really looking at her. He appeared to be examining the paper weight on her desk, a heavy rock shaped as a Phoenix.

Running his finger over the curve of the bird's wing, Blaise shifted back, glancing at Hermione for a second. "My behavior has not been the best lately. I apologize for any anxiety I may have caused."

Hermione shook her head and wrinkled her nose in disagreement. "Stop being so formal," she said, staring at him. "Why are you really here? To apologize for not contacting me for three weeks? I can understand maybe you running away in the morning. We didn't plan it and I suppose it wasn't the best idea in our present state, but not a word for weeks, Blaise? I suppose you've already forgotten what you said."

"I haven't forgotten," Blaise said, a hint of agitation in his voice. "Why the hell do you think I came back?"

"Why did you leave?" Hermione countered. "You could have left a note, an excuse of some kind, but you didn't have an excuse, did you?"

Blaise sighed, knowing she was angry with him. He had known she would be. His behavior had not been admirable, especially considering the circumstances. If she had been any other random girl, it wouldn't have mattered.

But she wasn't any other girl. She was Hermione, the woman pregnant with his child, the woman he had meant to leave almost a year ago. He'd meant to break up with her and move on, but it hadn't worked that way.

"No, I don't have an excuse," Blaise said, cutting her off before she could get into her stride. "But what does it matter? I'm here now."

"Yes, and for how long this time?" Hermione asked. "Until something else happens and you get scared? You think this is easy for me? You are not reliable, Blaise. I never could rely on you, and now I have to. It's scary and just thinking about it makes me nervous, but I don't run away. I don't stop talking to you for a month. I take responsibility. I know that this baby is going to be hard. It's going to be horrible at times. I'm not going to sleep for months and for the rest of my life, I'll be worrying about someone. I'll wake up in the middle of the night and have to check to see my child is still there. I know this is going to be _so_ hard. And I can't do it alone. I'm not as strong as I need to be."

"You are strong," Blaise said, standing up. "You've handled your life wonderfully so far. You still have things to learn, but we all do. You can't expect it to just come to you in a flash. You, of all people, should know that knowledge is more than instinct. It's time and dedication."

"Stop," Hermione said suddenly. "You're not allowed to come in here after being gone for weeks and tell me that everything's going to be fine. You, the man who ran away after one night of support, you can't tell me it's about research and dedication. You don't know what it is to be dedicated to something. Tell me, how long was your longest relationship?"

Blaise paused, looking away from her and fiddling with the leaves of a fichus in the corner. "Six months," he said finally.

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but stopped as she realized. "Oh," she said. Then after a moment, "Well, look how that turned out. A year later, here we are. You couldn't commit and now you're forced to, if you're going to follow through."

"I always follow through on my promises," Blaise said sternly.

"Which is exactly why you never made me any promises, wasn't it?" Hermione asked testily. "I know how your mind works, Blaise."

Blaise turned around, his expression exasperated. "Well, what are you going to do about it? We're in this mess and there's no getting out. Whether or not I make promises is irrelevant. We have to work around our faults if we're going to do this."

"Do this?" Hermione repeated, staring at Blaise in disbelief. "I've been trying, really, but every time I think you might actually hold up your end, you vanish. What am I supposed to think? You tell me we can handle this, and then you leave. You say you believe in me but then take away my trust. How can I believe you?"

Blaise sighed. "You can't, and if you don't want to, Hermione, I understand."

"Oh no," Hermione said as he turned to leave. "You're not getting out of this that easy." She stood up and walked around her desk. "You said you were committed, and though I don't believe it, somewhere inside me, and I know I'm going to hate myself for this later, I think you might have been telling the truth. From now on, though, you're going to have to prove yourself. If you run away again, I just don't know what I'm going to do."

"I'm not," Blaise said firmly.

Hermione gave him a skeptical look. "Mhmm."

Blaise rolled his eyes and walked over to her, raising a hand to her cheek. "I do tell the truth," he said softly.

Hermione was watching him carefully, her eyes locked with his as he moved closer. There was a pause and she was sure he was going to kiss her, but a knock on the door caused him to stop, shake his head slightly and step back.

Without waiting for Hermione, the door opened.

"Hermione, I need to ask you somethi…" Harry trailed away as his eyes traveled over Hermione and Blaise, who were standing in the middle of the room, each avoiding the other's gaze.

"What is it?" Hermione asked finally, breaking the awkward silence that had descended.

With a careful and suspicious glance at Blaise, Harry entered the room fully, leaving the door open. "It's private," he said, still watching Blaise.

Blaise scoffed. "Don't mind me, Potter. I was just leaving." He glanced at Hermione momentarily, then turned and swept out of the room.

Harry watched him suspiciously until he turned the corner, then shut the door quickly. "Is something going on?" he asked, looking at Hermione, who had turned and gone back to her desk.

"No, Harry, he's just writing an article about the new program," Hermione lied quickly.

"Well, he's sure been hanging around here an awful lot lately," Harry said darkly.

"Once, Harry," Hermione said. "He's been here once in the past three months. That's hardly a lot."

"He shouldn't be here at all," Harry said, frowning. "He shouldn't be bothering you. That's a real bastard thing to do after what he did."

"It's fine, Harry." Hermione sighed, taking her seat. She really didn't want to discuss Blaise with Harry. She made a mental note to tell Blaise to stop visiting her at work. Turning around in her chair, she glanced at Harry. "So what did you want to ask me?"

Harry didn't answer, now staring at the door through which Blaise had left. He looked back at Hermione, his expression questioning. "Hermione, what's going on here?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, knowing perfectly well what he meant.

"You've been acting strange lately and now Zabini is here writing some _article_. You don't think it's more than just a coincidence that he's here?"

"I think he takes his job seriously," Hermione said calmly. "If it brings him here, than we just have to deal with it."

"You aren't the least bit suspicious about his motives?" Harry pushed.

Hermione sighed. "I know you're an Auror and everything, Harry, but not everyone is up to something." Harry didn't look like he agreed and opened his mouth to protest more, but Hermione stopped him. "Just drop it," she said sternly. "It's not your concern."

Harry frowned at her tone but in the end shrugged his shoulders, still looking like he didn't believe her.

"Okay," Hermione said, taking a breath. "So was there an actual reason you came to see me?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "It's Padma's birthday next month and I was actually wondering if you might do me a favor." He grinned at her hopefully.

"What?" she asked cautiously.

"Well, you know how horrible I am at gifts, so I was thinking maybe you could help me pick out a gift?"

"Oh," Hermione said, surprised. "Of course."

"Really?" Harry asked. "That's great! Thanks, Hermione."

"Any idea what she likes?"

"Er…"

"We'll figure it out when we go shopping," Hermione said and Harry grinned.

"I knew I could count on you."

Hermione smiled but avoided his eyes. He didn't seem to notice as he moved toward the door. "We'll pick a time later, yeah?" he asked, his hand on the doorknob.

"Sure," Hermione agreed.

"Thank again, Hermione, you're a real lifesaver."

Then Harry was gone and Hermione was left alone in her office to think about what Harry had said about Blaise. He was getting suspicious and that wasn't good. Padma already suspected something and now Harry too.

She sighed. As long as no one found out, she was alright. She'd just have to tell Blaise not to come to work anymore. She couldn't risk the exposure and it was suspicious enough to even have him around.

As she leant back in her chair, she hoped everything would be alright. Only six more months to go. She sat up, pulling the pile of parchment she'd been working on towards her, intending to throw herself into her work for the rest of the day and not think about the future for the moment.

OoOoO

Blaise sat down in his armchair with a sigh, gazing out the glass door to his patio where the warm July sun beat down on the green foliage of the plants his gardener kept well-watered. He knew Hermione was right about him. He had abandoned her, hadn't kept up his end of the deal. She was right. He didn't make promises because making a promise was a commitment, and once a commitment was made, he was obligated to follow through.

Blaise gazed out the door, watching a yellow butterfly flutter down onto a red flower and sit there for a minute, its small wings fluctuating in the air. He couldn't let himself be scared anymore. There was nothing to be afraid of, he told himself.

A knock sounded on the front door and Blaise turned his head as he heard the maid answering the door. He had never kept House Elves even though his mother had offered him a few. He preferred paid servants; it somehow eased his conscience.

His mother dismissed the maid and swept into the living room, catching sight of Blaise in the chair and coming over to him, kissing him on the cheek before taking a seat in the white leather chair opposite him. She crossed her legs delicately and smiled at her son, tossing back her dark hair.

"Blaise, darling, how are you?" she asked, rearranging her gold bracelets.

Blaise shrugged. "Fine, mother," he replied in a bored tone. "Would you care for a drink?"

"Honey, you know I don't drink this early in the afternoon," Isabella said. She glanced at the clock. It was nearly two in the afternoon. "Wait ten minutes. Now, Blaise," she said, leaning forward slightly, "you recall Robert's funeral?"

"Yes," Blaise said carefully, thinking that he needed a drink.

"I don't know if you remember, but there was a lovely girl there. Her name was Vanessa Winchester. Her family is quite rich. Her father invented a potion to stop hair loss in older wizards."

"Your point, mother?" Blaise asked, thinking he _really_ needed that drink now.

"I think you'd like her very much," Isabella said. "I've set something up. You're not busy on Tuesday, are you, darling?"

Blaise sighed and raised a hand to his temple. "No," he said finally. "Where shall I meet her?"

"Oh, wonderful, Blaise, I knew you would do it. She's a delightful girl. Go to La Petite Maison at eight on Tuesday. You'll know her. She'll be the pretty brunette with the gorgeous green eyes."

Blaise nodded. It was another day, another girl. It had taken his mother much longer this time to find one for him. Usually she could have another lined up the day after his break-up. He wondered what caused the delay.

He would humor her, though. He would go out with this girl for a week or two, then tell her it wasn't working. Most weren't smart enough to even figure out what was going on before he'd broken it off.

Isabella smiled contentedly and settled back in her chair. "I think I will have that drink now," she said pleasantly.

Blaise called in the maid and asked her to bring them some drinks. As the woman turned to leave, Blaise whispered to her, "And make mine a double."

The young woman smiled understandingly at Blaise with a glance at his mother, then turned to fetch their order, disappearing into the kitchen as Blaise sank back into his chair with a sigh.


	12. The Date

The next Tuesday found Blaise wearing a nice suit and walking into La Petite Maison, glancing around for anyone that might look like someone his mother might select for him.

The maitre de stopped Blaise as he walked past his stand. "Excuse me, sir, may I help you?"

"I'm meeting someone," Blaise said, glancing around the room. The lights were low over the bar and many small tables were lit with individual candles. Cozy couples were talking to each other in quiet voices. Blaise asked himself sarcastically just what his mother was hinting at.

He spotted a woman sitting at a table situated near the wall. She was tall and pretty with long, dark hair that fell over her shoulders in perfectly sculpted waves. Her eyes sparkled in the candlelight as she sipped her drink. She looked as though she was waiting for someone.

Sidestepping the maitre de, Blaise sauntered casually to the woman's table.

"Vanessa?" he asked.

The woman looked up, her eyes taking in Blaise's appearance. She didn't look very excited. She stirred her drink and tilted her head to the side. "Blaise, I presume?" she asked. Her voice wasn't what Blaise had been expecting.

Most of the girls his mother set him up with were…vapid, there was no other word for it, and their voices reflected that; high-pitched and constantly giggling. This woman's voice was nowhere near that. Her tone was almost bored and her gaze appraising as he took his seat opposite her and ordered a drink from the server.

Blaise took a moment to observe this girl. She was taller than the others, with long, shapely legs that were shown off by her mid-length dress. Her face was very pretty, but she wasn't smiling.

"I take it you don't want to be here?" Blaise asked, watching her stir her drink with a long straw.

"Wow," she said, sitting back and sounding completely unimpressed. "My father said you were smart, but I didn't think you'd be so observant." Her tone was sarcastic and she rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink.

Blaise was taken aback. No girl his mother had ever chosen had been like her. Most were thrilled to go out with him, and even more thrilled when he asked them back to his place.

He raised an eyebrow as she set her drink back on the table and watched him expectantly.

"My, we are vicious, aren't we?" he drawled, accepting his drink from the server. "Tell me, Vanessa, you treat all your dates like this?"

Vanessa leaned forward, her expression challenging. "Tell me, _Blaise_, would you be here if your mother hadn't forced you?"

Blaise paused, then smirked. "Depends. Was it worth my while?"

"Doubtful," Vanessa replied, sitting back. "So what's a good length of time to stay on this date until it's believable?"

"I average about an hour or two," Blaise replied, sipping his drink. "Enough time for dinner, get a measure of the date so you can pass off that you like them to your parents. Depending on the person, you may be able to get some sort of sexual favor, but I have a feeling that's not going to happen here." He sent her smirk.

Vanessa paused, looking surprised at his answer. "You know," she said slowly. "I think I may have misjudged you."

"You can learn a lot from me, sweetie," he drawled. "Question is, do you want to?"

"You tell me how to pass off that I enjoy these idiotic outings and I'll be forever in your debt."

Blaise smirked and sat back. Maybe this girl wasn't so bad.

"First things first, you must pretend to be interested in the other party."

"Do I have to?" Vanessa asked, wrinkling her nose.

"It's pretty crucial," Blaise said. Vanessa frowned, but listened as Blaise explained the finer points of pretending to date someone.

They made it through the drinks and first course, their conversation coming easier. By the time the main course came, they were talking freely, more like friends than anything else.

"So," Vanessa said, tossing her hair back and it cascaded down her back. "Where would you rather be instead of on this date?"

"I can think of a million places," Blaise drawled. "None of which involve self-important French men."

Vanessa laughed as a server passing by gave Blaise a dirty look. "Tell me," she said. "Is there someone you'd rather be with? Someone your mother wouldn't approve of?"

"Accusing me of having a secret relationship?" Blaise asked playfully. "What caused this question?"

Vanessa hesitated, then glanced around and leaned in, smiling mischievously. "I have a boyfriend," she said quietly. "But no one knows except my best friend. My father would have a heart attack if he found out. My boyfriend is an artist and my father thinks it's a completely unacceptable career."

"Maybe I misjudged you," Blaise said, smiling.

Vanessa leaned back and tilted her head to the side. "So you're not hiding anything, or anyone, from your mother?"

Blaise glanced away and down at his drink, fingering the tablecloth. It seemed that it was much harder to lie to a complete stranger, but after all, she had just confessed a secret to him.

Vanessa was watching him carefully. "Blaise," she said slowly. "What is it?"

"It's nothing," he said, shaking his head slightly.

Vanessa was quiet for a second, then she said quietly, "There is someone. Who is it?"

"No one," he said firmly, looking up at her. She was staring deep into his eyes, as though trying to read his thoughts. He blinked and looked away.

"You love her."

"No, I don't!"

"Ha, so there is someone," Vanessa said triumphantly and Blaise scowled.

"You're wrong," he said simply, downing the rest of his drink.

She was silent for a minute, watching him pick at his food. After a few minutes, she sighed. "Come on, I told you my secret. I promise I won't tell anyone."

Blaise glanced at her and saw her honest face, staring at him plainly. A part of him knew he shouldn't tell her, but another part was dying to tell someone, and who better than a complete stranger?

He sighed, setting down his fork and glancing up at her. "Alright, but if you tell anyone, I will personally find and tell your father about your boyfriend."

"Agreed," she said. "So what's going on?"

Shifting forward and lowering his voice, Blaise began to tell her about Hermione.

"There is a girl," he said quietly and Vanessa smiled knowingly. "We dated for about six months until I broke up with her. We stopped dating, but we didn't stop… _seeing_ each other." He gave her a meaningful look and she nodded to show she understood what he meant. "Three months ago, she sent me an Owl." He stopped here, wondering if he should really go on.

Vanessa sensed his hesitation and reached out for his hand. "Go on. What happened?"

"She's…" He hesitated. "She's pregnant."

Vanessa's mouth opened in a silent 'oh'. She lowered her gaze to the flickering candle for a second. Blaise sat in silence, hoping he hadn't just made a huge mistake.

After a moment, she looked back up at him, her face inscrutable. "And what are you doing about this?"

"I'm… I'm trying to help but it's difficult. She's very stubborn and she doesn't really trust me."

"Well, I wouldn't either," Vanessa said and Blaise looked at her sharply. "What? You broke up with her but didn't leave, and then you got her pregnant. No girl would like that unless she was still hopelessly in love with you. Is she?"

"I don't think so," Blaise said, a little taken aback at what she'd said. "I don't know if she ever…"

"How'd she take it when you broke up with her?" Vanessa asked as he trailed off.

"She was upset," he said, shrugging. "She cried, yelled at me, accused me of things."

Vanessa raised an eyebrow at his last words but said nothing. "Did you love her?"

Blaise sighed. He felt as though he was reliving the conversation with Pansy, only with a more sympathetic person. "No."

"That was fast," Vanessa said, looking at him carefully. "Thought about this answer, have you?"

Blaise scowled. "No. It's just been brought up lately."

"By her?"

Blaise laughed bitterly. "We can barely get through one conversation without her accusing me of something. Like she would ask if I ever loved her."

"Why don't you ask her?"

"Because it's not important," he said impatiently. "Any real relationship we had is over. Now, it's just about this baby and what we're going to do."

"You want to know what I think?" Vanessa asked.

"I'm not sure," Blaise said slowly, eyeing her suspiciously.

"I think that before you can even think about a baby with this woman, you have to figure out what you feel for her. It will be much easier once that's done."

"I already—"

"I know, I know." Vanessa sighed. "You don't care about her, or that's what you say. I, however, don't believe you. I think there's more to this and you're merely suppressing what you may or may not feel."

She smiled at Blaise and stood up; he stood up also. She picked up her purse and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "If you need help, Owl me." She stepped back, smiling mischievously. "I think I've learned enough to pretend this was an enjoyable night. Take care, Blaise."

Then she left, and Blaise sat back down in his chair with a shake of his head. He called for the server and ordered another drink, thinking as the man walked away that this had been one of the most interesting dates his mother had ever set him up on.

OoOoO

"How was your date, my darling?"

Blaise sat back, regarding his mother with a small smile on his face.

"It was interesting," he said after a moment. "Vanessa is different than what I thought."

"Oh, I knew you two would be perfect for each other," Isabella said, her eyes lighting up. "When will you be seeing her next?"

"Oh, I won't," Blaise replied. "She's just not my type."

Isabella's eyes widened and she looked at her son for a moment. "But, Blaise, she's such a lovely girl. She's well-bred, wealthy, intelligent, beautiful. Isn't that what you want, sweetie?"

Blaise sighed. His mother had no idea what he wanted. He didn't know what he wanted as a matter of fact. Vanessa had made a valid point about figuring out his feelings before progressing any further.

"Mother," he said, "I know you want me to choose a wife, and get married, have children, all of those things, but setting me up every five seconds isn't going to make it go any faster."

Isabella looked disappointed. "Blaise, you need to think about your future, the Zabini future. It won't go away. You will have to marry and produce an heir. Sooner is better in case anything happens."

"And what's going to happen?" Blaise asked, exasperated. "The Dark Lord is gone. No one's after us."

"It seems the fate of this family that the males should die young. Your father was only—"

"Father was killed by a Death Eater, mother," he said seriously, cutting her off. "Most are imprisoned now and they aren't after me. I have a whole life to live and choosing a wife for me will only shorten it."

Isabella looked determined. "You will settle down sometime, Blaise, and when you do, you will be glad for what I've done. It's important to select a good wife. She is your image, the reflection of your life and name. She stands by your side and helps you. She loves you and you need to choose someone who will be an asset."

"You don't think I could choose someone like that?" Blaise asked angrily.

"You don't have to," Isabella said. "That's why I'm here. I want to find you that girl."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "I'm an adult. I can choose someone for myself. I don't need your help."

"You do," Isabella said sternly. "The last girl you chose, well, look what happened."

"You mean Hermione?" Blaise asked carefully.

"She was obsessed with her work. She didn't give you the attention you deserved, darling. And besides, you need a classic beauty to offset your good looks. She was much too plain to be a Zabini wife." Isabella looked at her son sympathetically. "It wasn't your fault you dated her. I suppose she must have had her charms, but Blaise, sweetheart, you could do much better."

Blaise was silent for a minute as he absorbed what his mother was saying. He felt for a moment as though he was having déjà vu. Isabella has said many similar things when Blaise had been dating Hermione, though they had been less overt.

Blaise lifted his head after a moment. "I need to be alone." He turned toward the door and his mother followed.

"Now, dear, don't be upset," Isabella said as she followed her son to his front door. "I only meant that there are so many more choices for you." She smiled at Blaise and accepted her coat. She gave him a kiss on the cheek before stepping out the open front door. "Don't make plans for next week. I'll find someone better than Vanessa."

Blaise refrained from rolling his eyes as his mother stepped outside. He forced his mouth into a smile as she Disapparated. It fell immediately as she disappeared. Groaning to himself, he shut the door and shook his head. Vanessa was right. He needed to do a lot of thinking and soon.


	13. Beautiful Lies

July passed quickly into August and Blaise kept up with his promise to stay connected to Hermione. They weathered the morning sickness with difficulty. Blaise had to hear often how miserable Hermione was and how it always ended up as his fault.

For the most part, he ignored her blaming. He knew it was emotions and high temper that caused most of it. Plus, he had to admit that it was his fault, not that he would ever tell her that.

He sent regular Owls checking in, making sure everything was alright. There had been very few outbursts since the day in her office, for which he was glad. He had enough on his plate without Hermione yelling at him for various things.

His mother had found a new girl for him, one exactly like the rest; tall, blond, stupid. He could handle this one, but to his great annoyance, Vanessa's words kept coming back to him, asking what Hermione felt, what he felt.

He didn't want to think about it, and so pushed it out of the way, concentrating on keeping his promise.

Hermione was surprised when Blaise didn't run away or lose contact for weeks at a time this time. She had been expecting him to disappear after what she'd told him. She hadn't expected him to step up and take on his responsibility as the father. She was mildly pleased at his actions.

By the middle of August, Hermione had discovered she was beginning to show. This did not please her so much. As she wore mainly Muggle attire, it would be harder to conceal as time went by. At the moment, it simply looked as though she had gained a little weight, but even that concerned her.

She supposed that if she had to, she could revert to wearing wizard robes. They hid things much better. She hadn't worn robes for a while now. As Muggle was the new fashion trend and she had always preferred it anyway, she had never been too keen on wizard wear and only wore it on formal Ministry occasions and when required.

She didn't like the idea of going back to it. Instead, she hoped that by the time she was really showing, the weather would be cooler and she would be able to layer it away.

The second week of August found her standing in the middle of a large Muggle department store in the middle of London, fingering a gold bracelet. She tilted her head to the side, watching the gold glint in the bright lights of the store.

"You think she would like this?"

She looked over to see Harry standing near a rack of hats of all different colors, mainly pink, blue, and purple. Harry was holding up what had to be the ugliest of all the hats. It was pink with blue feathers all around the edges.

Hermione walked over to him and plucked the hat from his hands, placing it back on the wrack.

"I thought you wanted a serious gift, Harry," she said, wrinkling her nose at the hat.

"I do," Harry said earnestly, glancing at the hat. "You don't think she'd like it?"

"Oh no, she would like it," Hermione said, turning around. "It would go perfectly with her clown's nose, don't you think?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Okay, so what do you think she'd like, smarty pants?"

Hermione smiled and grabbed Harry's arm, leading him over to the jewelry counter. "Harry, the way to a woman's heart is through jewelry."

"You mean like bracelets and necklaces and stuff?" Harry asked.

"Yes, and stuff," Hermione agreed.

"But don't you get that stuff when you want someone to like you?"

"Or to show you care," Hermione added.

"But she already knows how I feel," he said, frowning and turning away from the display case. "She knows I love her. I want to get her something that really means that, not some flashy necklace that won't mean anything in a year."

Hermione paused for a moment, thinking. She admired Harry's spirit in the matter, only wishing she had someone who would do the same for her.

"In that case," Hermione said, turning to Harry thoughtfully, "what does she like?"

Harry shrugged, glancing carelessly at a rack of scarves. "I dunno."

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Come on, Harry. You've been dating her for, what, a year almost? You must know something that she likes or wants."

"I don't know! I'm not good at gifts," Harry said exasperatedly. "That's why I need you."

"Well, I need you to tell me what you know about her so I can help you," Hermione said, giving Harry a sympathetic smile. She rubbed her forehead for a second, then let out a breath, walking over to him. "We'll start with something simple. What's her favorite color?"

Harry thought for a second. "Blue," he said finally.

Hermione laughed. "Figures. Does she have any hobbies?"

"Cooking?" Harry guessed.

"No, Harry, that's her job." Hermione sighed.

"Well, she loves it," he said, fingering a silk scarf before turning and wandering down another aisle of the store.

Hermione strolled beside him, looking around her in silence, trying to think of what she knew about Padma. Personally, she was very glad Harry had chosen her rather than her sister. She'd always liked Padma better, perhaps because she was smarter than her twin.

They were taking a short cut through the evening gown section when Harry stopped suddenly. Hermione gave him a questioning look.

"You want to buy her a ball gown?"

Harry shook his head. "No, Hermione, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Hermione said, starting to walk again. She hoped he wasn't about to ask about her behavior the past few months. She'd gotten enough questions about it, and she had been trying to act as normal as possible since Harry's birthday party.

Harry walked beside her, studying his shoes carefully. "You're a woman, Hermione," he said slowly. "Do you ever think about getting married?"

Hermione's eyebrows came together slightly. "I'd need a boyfriend first, I'm afraid, Harry," she said finally.

"Yeah, but you think about it, don't you? I mean, you want to get married, eventually, right?"

"Sure," she said. "If I ever find someone I love, I want to get married."

She didn't see the sidelong glance Harry sent at her. He sighed as they continued walking. "Do you ever feel pressure to get married?"

"No," she said carefully. "What is this about? Did Padma say something?"

"No," Harry said quickly. "But do you think maybe she's expecting me to propose since Ron did to Mandy?"

Hermione laughed as they passed through the dresses and into another section of the shop.

"What?" Harry demanded. "What's funny?"

"Nothing, Harry," Hermione said complacently. "Why would you suppose Padma would expect you to propose simply because Ron did?"

"Well," Harry said, sounding flustered, "don't women expect men to do things like this?"

"Harry," Hermione said, patting him on the arm, "the only thing Padma expects is for you to love her and be there for her. Yeah, eventually if you guys are ready, she may want to get married, but it won't be because Ron proposed to Mandy."

Harry gave a sigh of relief and hugged Hermione to him. She immediately tensed up at the contact, as though afraid he might be able to tell what she was hiding from a hug.

"Thanks, Hermione," he said, smiling as he let her go. "I was just kind of worried."

Hermione smiled, feeling relieved as Harry let go. "Don't be. Now, let's find her a gift, shall we?"

They combed the store, Hermione suggesting everything from an embroidered blue pillow to blue diamond earrings. Harry rejected them all, and Hermione rejected all of his suggestions.

Finally, they seemed to come to the conclusion that it was simply impossible to find a gift that would fit Padma.

"It's impossible!" Harry exclaimed in frustration, throwing a can opener back on the hook. "I can't find anything in this store!"

"We'll find something," Hermione said, feeling the same. She was tired of shopping, tired of standing, and she was beginning to feel nauseous. Oh, how she hated morning sickness that, ridiculously enough, didn't seem to think morning was enough.

"There's nothing, Hermione," Harry said despairingly. "Nothing that's good enough for her. Maybe I will just buy her a diamond necklace. You said girls liked jewelry, right?"

Hermione sighed, leaning against a shelf. "You know Padma deserves better than a meaningless diamond. You said so yourself."

"But what can I get her? This is insane."

"I don't know, Harry, maybe we should try another store," Hermione suggested, internally cringing at the thought. She couldn't for the life of her remember why she'd agreed to this shopping trip. She was beginning to really regret it. "Maybe we need to step out of the ordinary, find something more unique that will—"

"Oh my God," Harry said, cutting her off. He was staring behind her to a glass case that held an array of bowls and pots. They were quite decorated with tile mosaics, sparkling jewels, and shiny glosses.

"What?" she asked, turning as he walked right past.

"Look at that jar right there," he said, pointing in the case to a pretty blue and green jar about as big as a pickle jar, but much more elegant. The top of the seal was decorated with sparkling white crystals that glittered in the bright display lights.

"A jar?" Hermione asked. She had to admit it was a very pretty jar, but it was still a jar.

"Yes," Harry breathed. "Padma collects decorative jars for her kitchen. She's got about ten of them, some used for potion ingredients, some for cooking like sugar and flour."

"That's unique," Hermione commented. She didn't collect anything herself but admired those who did.

"She'd love it," Harry said, turning to Hermione. "It's perfect!"

"Well, we found the gift," Hermione said, feeling relieved. Her stomach was beginning to bother her more and she felt a bit feint from standing for so long.

"Thanks again, Hermione," Harry said, hugging her.

Hermione held her breath for a second as Harry pulled her to him. Luckily, he pulled back quickly, turning to stare avidly at the jar again.

"Harry, uh, I have an appointment," Hermione said awkwardly, "so if you don't mind, I have to leave."

"Oh, that's okay," Harry said happily. "We found it. That's all that matters. I'll see you at her party?"

"Sure," Hermione said, forcing a smile. "I'll see you then."

She turned and walked quickly through the store until she found a safe, hidden spot. She Apparated home quickly, grimacing as it did nothing to help the queasiness in her stomach.

As soon as she was home, she tossed her purse on the couch and headed for the bathroom.

OoOoO

Blaise Apparated into Hermione's living room, looking around for her. He saw her purse on the couch and paused. Looking around, he still didn't see her.

"Hermione?" he asked but got no response.

His head turned to the bathroom door as he heard a toilet flush and the sink running. A minute later, the door opened and Hermione came out, looking flushed and tired.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Blaise asked quickly, walking over toward her.

She rejected his assistance as she walked over to the couch and sank down on it with a sigh.

"Are you sick?" Blaise asked.

"It's morning sickness," Hermione grumbled in a low voice.

"But it's not morning…"

"I know," she said darkly, giving him an ugly look. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back on the couch for a second, then opened them quickly and looked at Blaise. "What are you doing here?"

Blaise paused then strolled around the couch but didn't sit. He looked as though he was contemplating why he really was there.

At length, he sat down, crossing his legs casually. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm seeing someone."

Hermione had been in the process of wiping her forehead but stilled suddenly at his words. After a second, she put down her hand, staring hard at her lap.

"You are?" she said finally, keeping her voice even.

Blaise shrugged noncommittally, gauging her reaction. "Well, my mother set it up and it's really best to indulge her."

"Of course," Hermione said quietly, thinking. "So what's she like?"

Blaise waited a moment before replying, still watching Hermione, who was concentrating on her fingers.

"She's nice, smarter than usual, pretty, of course."

"Of course," Hermione echoed, a hint of sarcasm leaking into her words.

"I have to admit that this one isn't half bad. I didn't expect to enjoy going out with her, but she seems different than the usual."

Hermione's eyes had narrowed but she said nothing.

With a careful glance at her, Blaise continued. "Her family's rich, but it doesn't really matter, to me anyway. My mother is thrilled with the prospect. Vanessa's a wonderful woman."

"She sounds nice," Hermione said in a voice of forced calm. "I'm sure you'll be happy."

Blaise paused. "You're okay with this, right? I mean, we're not together."

"I know," Hermione said, somewhat defensively and Blaise raised an eyebrow. "It's fine. I'm fine. You can date whoever you want, Blaise."

"I just wanted to check, make sure I'm not breaking some rule about single-parent dating."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're allowed to do whatever you want. No one is forcing you to do anything."

Blaise rose from his chair. "Alright. In that case, I'm meeting Vanessa for dinner. We're going to that new Italian place across town."

"Ugh, Italian," Hermione said, cringing and holding her stomach. "Don't talk about food."

"Sorry," Blaise said dismissively. "But I can't wait. She's a whole different world, this woman."

"I get it," Hermione said through clenched teeth. "Please, just go."

He hesitated, looking at her on the couch. He noticed that her stomach was not as flat as usual and felt a flutter of nerves in his chest. He pushed it away, though, trying to observe her reaction to what he said.

"Owl me if something's wrong," he said seriously before turning away and Apparating in a crack.

As he vanished, Hermione took a deep breath, raising her gaze from her lap. The silence settled in the flat and she couldn't help as a tear slid down her face. Brushing it away, she told herself to get a grip. Blaise was perfectly able to date other women. She had known he would. She had no right to be jealous.

_Jealous?_ she thought. _Am I really jealous? Of what? That woman? Not possible._

She shook her head, trying to control her emotions, which she had a strong suspicion had to do with hormones.

She wasn't jealous, and she wasn't hurt by the fact that he'd met someone he liked. Not in the least.

Wiping away another tear, Hermione rose and headed for the bedroom, intending to lie down and try to forget anything that had just happened.

OoOoO

Blaise arrived in his living room, only to find an owl waiting on the coffee table. As soon as he untied the letter, the bird took off, soaring out the open window.

Blaise shook open the letter and read it through quickly.

_Blaise,_

Heather told me she had a wonderful date the other night. I do hope you stay with her. She's a lovely girl, very worthy of the Zabini name. I hope to expect a wedding soon, darling. Do let me know how things go!

Mother

As he finished reading, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. He turned to the fireplace and lit a quick fire with his wand, tossing the letter in.

Blaise turned from the fire, thinking to himself. If his observations had been right, Hermione had not liked the mention of Vanessa, so much like herself, a threat. This thought gave rise to a thrill that ran through Blaise's body. Maybe Vanessa had been right. Maybe he needed to ask Hermione.


	14. The Birthday Girl

As August dwindled, Hermione found the weather hot, which would not be a bad thing except for the fact that her protruding stomach was more noticeable as time wore on. She made up for this fact by wearing baggier clothes, knowing it was only a matter of time before she would either have to start wearing robes or hope the weather cooled off fast.

The last week of August found her sitting on her small balcony overlooking the city, a glass of cold lemonade in her hand and a fan in the other. The sun beat down from above, illuminating the glow of city pollution.

Hermione was fanning herself in an almost hopeless manner. She was not enjoying the weather, no matter how much the television weatherman seemed to. At work, everyone seemed tired because of the heat, a little grumpy at times. Hermione took advantage of this as her hormones tended to lash out randomly and unexpectedly. Most people attributed this to the heat, for which she was very glad.

As she took a sip of her cool drink, the telephone rang from inside her flat. Unwillingly, she stood up and pulled open the door, making her way to the counter and grabbing the phone off it.

It had to be a Muggle who was calling her. Only they used the telephone.

"Hello?" Hermione answered, still waving the fan at herself. The heat wasn't any better inside.

"Hermione, dear, how are you?"

"Hi, mum," Hermione said, going over to the couch and sinking down on it. "I'm doing well, you?"

Her parents didn't really call her that much since she was usually so busy with work. It seemed like they were part of another life, a life before Hogwarts, a life before everything had happened.

"Very well," her mother answered. "How is work? Last your father and I heard, you were heading for a big promotion."

Hermione grimaced. That had been over five months before. She realized how little she communicated with her parents.

"Oh yes, that went very well. I'm working on developing a new system for the Ministry Court sessions."

"Oh good," her mother said, now sounding as though she was simply stalling.

Hermione sighed. "So, mum, why did you call?"

"Well," her mother said slowly. "Your birthday is in three weeks and your father and I were wondering if we'd be seeing you."

She sounded so hopeful and Hermione had to frown. She wanted to see her parents, but she wasn't sure if she could in her present condition. She could hide it alright, but lying to her parents was another story. She'd never been very good at it, even years of hanging around Harry and Ron hadn't helped.

Glancing down at her stomach, that had a slight curve to it, she paused, thinking hard. She couldn't avoid her parents forever. They had a right to know what was going on with their daughter, even if it would break their hearts. They would be terribly disappointed to know their perfect daughter was pregnant out of wedlock. They tended to be more traditionalist when it came to love and marriage.

"I…" she said finally. She could almost hear her mother holding her breath. "I'm going to be busy most of the next month, but I suppose we could get together next week sometime."

"Wonderful!" her mother cried. "I was hoping you'd be available, sweetheart. We've missed you so much."

Hermione actually smiled, though it was almost sad. The tone of her mother's voice pulled at her heart. She knew she'd been avoiding them; she'd been avoiding almost everyone for the past four months.

After making plans to meet the next Saturday for tea, Hermione hung up the phone and remained sitting on the settee. This new obstacle, her birthday, was going to present a problem. Every year, Harry and Ron threw her a party with all her friends and coworkers. This year, she just didn't want to, but how would she tell them?

Thinking she should nip the problem in the bud before it even got started, she whistled and her black owl, Kore, fluttered over onto her shoulder. She pulled a piece of parchment and a quill to herself and set down to write a letter.

After much thinking and crossing out, she finally had a satisfactory letter. She held it up to read it.

_Harry,_

In regards to my birthday this year, I know you always plan a wonderful party, but I think this year I'd prefer something a little more demure. You know, just my close friends like you and Ron. I've just been so busy lately and I'm a bit tired. Please, let me know what your plans are. I'd appreciate something smaller than usual.

Love, Hermione

She nodded succinctly and sealed the letter, attaching it to Kore's leg and watching her soar out the window. She hoped Harry would listen to her request instead of being stubborn and going ahead with what he may have already planned.

She knew he liked to make big celebrations when it came to birthdays. Since he'd hardly ever gotten to celebrate his own as a child, he seemed to take it upon himself to make sure everyone around him had great days for themselves.

In the past, she had appreciated his enthusiasm, but this year, she just didn't feel like having a huge party with lots of guests, people she'd have to make polite conversation with. She'd much rather spend the night in with just Harry and Ron.

She sighed. She had no control over what Harry might be planning; she only hoped he would listen to her wishes.

As she looked out her window, the sun began to sink below the horizon. The tops of London's buildings were gilded gold as the sunk sank lower. Her birthday was little more than two weeks away and her due date was five months ahead.

She'd marked the date on her calendar but was beginning to grow nervous. As of yet, she hadn't bought anything to prepare such as a crib or other baby items. She supposed she ought to discuss this with Blaise, though she didn't really see the point. They hadn't discussed anything pertaining to what would happen after the baby was born.

Hermione wondered if Blaise ever thought about the aftermath. Obviously, he knew what was going on, but did he really consider the consequences? Neither of them had told anyone and Hermione preferred to keep it that way, at least for a little while.

Sinking down in her chair that looked out the window, she took a deep breath. If she managed to survive the next few months, there were the next 17 years of her child's life to handle. She didn't doubt that the child would be magical, what with her prowess and Blaise's lineage. That made it easier, knowing the child would attend Hogwarts for most of the year, but what about before and after?

Hermione didn't really know what raising a child entailed and the only people she could ask, such as her mother or Mrs. Weasley, were people she'd rather not tell at the moment why she would be asking such a question.

She guessed she would just have to figure it out on her own. It wouldn't be that hard, she thought. If she found the right books and told the right people, she could get by. It wasn't as though she was alone either; she did have Blaise, although he wasn't the best consultant on the subject either.

Hermione sighed and glanced at the calendar again then down at her stomach. Deciding she'd rather not think about anything, she flicked her wand, turning on the stereo. A soft classical piece floated through the sitting room and she closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to wake up and find this was all a bad dream.

OoOoO

Hermione stood in front of a single story house with large front windows. Behind her, a car drove past and a dog barked from somewhere to her left. A kid on a bicycle whooshed by without giving the woman standing on the sidewalk looking up at the house with an ominous air a second glance.

After a moment's hesitation, Hermione pulled her coat tighter and started up the walk. It was a balmy September evening; there was no real need for her coat, but she felt protected by its bulk, if only a little.

She rang the doorbell and stepped back to wait, glancing around at her childhood home. She remembered when she'd first received her Hogwarts letter. She hadn't believed it at first, but after finding Diagon Alley, she'd been positively delighted.

She had been standing right behind the very door she was standing at, reading the letter through five times before she realized what it was saying.

Hermione shook the memory away as the door opened and her mother stood on the threshold. Jane Granger had the same frizzy brown hair and wore square glasses. Her smile was friendly and her arms were open.

She welcomed Hermione with a hug and a kiss on her cheek.

"Hermione, dear, I'm so glad to see you," Jane said, ushering her daughter in. "Let me take your coat."

"Oh," Hermione said, reluctantly shrugging it off. "Alright." She watched her mother put it away in a closet off the door. "Where's dad?"

"He's in the sitting room," her mother said offhandedly. "Do go say hello."

Hermione tugged at her sleeve self consciously, smoothing down her dress. She'd been wearing dresses a lot lately. She found they hid things a lot better if she wore the right cut.

As she walked into the sitting room, she saw her father sitting in an arm chair, a newspaper held in front of his nose. The paper lowered as Hermione came in and from behind it, her father smiled.

"Come to see your parents like a good girl?" he asked lightheartedly.

Hermione smiled and walked over, giving him a light hug. "Hi, dad, you look well."

She sat down on the settee opposite and crossed her legs.

"I am well," her dad said. "What about you? Your mother says you've been busy down at that office of yours. You don't think they work you too hard?"

Hermione laughed. "No, dad, I love my job. And I don't mind being busy."

"Yes, but then you have no time to relax," he said, stretching out his legs. He grinned. "My dear, you never did know how to relax."

Hermione frowned. He was perfectly right, but she'd never wanted to admit it. "Of course I do," she said. "But personally, I think it's better to be productive than to sit around all day and read the paper."

Her father shook his head, still smiling. "Just wait until you have children, Hermione. Then you might find it nice to sit around and do nothing."

Hermione flushed a little but nodded. Her dad didn't say anything and her mother came in and sat down beside Hermione.

"Well, Hermione," she said, "tell us a little more about your job."

Hermione smiled at the easy subject and began to tell them all about her work at the Ministry. They seemed genuinely interested in everything she told them, though she knew they understood very little.

They had always been supportive, however, of her desire to learn magic and stay in the magical world, even if it meant seeing them less. They knew she was happy there and they wanted nothing more than for their daughter to be happy.

After a few moments of chit chat, her mother stood up. "It's such a nice evening," she said. "I thought we might eat outside."

Hermione smiled and rose from her chair, leading the way through the kitchen to the backyard. As she disappeared into the room, her mother whispered to her father.

"Gained a bit of weight, hasn't she? I do hope she's completely healthy."

Her father merely grunted in agreement. They followed Hermione to the patio where they enjoyed a relaxed meal in the warm afternoon.

Hermione tried her best to act normally, but the small bubble of guilt in her stomach was constantly turning as she told her parents that no, she did not have a boyfriend, and no, she wasn't see anyone. She knew they were interested in her future and hoped she would one day marry and have children.

She hated to see their faces if she told them she was closer to that goal than they expected. She didn't want to crush their vision of a perfect daughter with a perfect future. So far, she had done well for herself, completing school, helping defeat the most evil wizard of all time, and acquiring a position at the Ministry, all within a period of seven years.

It hadn't been easy, but she prided herself on rising to the challenge of life and succeeding. She wanted her parents to be proud of her also.

The rest of the evening passed quickly enough, without too much avoidance of questions on Hermione's part. She was attempting to be as honest as she could without actual lying to her parents.

At the end of the night, they all rose from their chairs in the dining room where they'd been having an after-dinner cup of tea. Her mother was the first to hug her and wish her well at work, expressing her wish they could meet more often.

Her father also rose, hugging her. "Don't be a stranger," he said, giving her an extra squeeze. "I like to remember that I have a daughter on occasion."

Hermione smiled. "I'm glad. I'll try to stop by more often, though I may be busy over the next few months."

"Promises, promises," her father said. "As long as you keep them, that's all I care."

"I always do," Hermione said quietly as they walked to the front door.

After another hug each, her parents let her go, watching until she'd walked all the way down the street and vanished in the blink of an eye.

Standing in their doorway, Jane turned to her husband. "Did she seem alright to you?"

"A bit tired, if you ask me," he said, turning and heading back into the house.

Jane remained at the door for another moment and sighed. "Dear, Hermione, I do hope you know what you're doing." Then she turned and disappeared inside, shutting the door behind her.

OoOoO

It seemed a very short amount of time that Harry's "get-together" for her birthday happened. One week she was evading questions about her personal life with her parents and then she was doing something similar at Harry's house.

He'd heeded her wishes and it wasn't a big fiesta like always. Instead, only Harry, Ron, Mandy, Padma, and Ginny were there. The feeling of relief that washed over Hermione as she realized they were the only invitees was immense.

It was a simple dinner Harry had planned, with all of her favorite foods, although when they set down the salad with vinaigrette dressing, she had to turn away, only taking a little and not really eating it. The smell was overpowering for her.

No one really seemed to notice. They were all talking merrily, happy to spend time together. Hermione joined in as best as she could, watching the happy couples and secretly longing for the same. A part of her wished Blaise or someone was sitting next to her with their hand around her waist, like Harry was with Padma.

She made it through the salad alright and was delighted when Harry brought out the kidney pie, claiming he had made it himself.

Padma laughed. "If you count laying the crust."

"I did more than that," Harry said indignantly. "I turned on the oven too."

"Of course," Padma said, still laughing slightly, patting Harry on the arm. "I forgot."

"Well, I did help with the dessert," Harry said pointedly and Hermione laughed. She forgot at times how much she enjoyed spending time with this group.

She ate with gusto now, thoroughly enjoying the food. She always seemed to be eating more than usual now. Her books had told her this would happen, that her appetite would increase the closer she got to her due date. She was always snacking nowadays.

When the dessert was brought out, she helped herself, listening contentedly as Harry told a story about something that had happened at work.

Hermione laughed with the rest of them as she took a second helping. Harry glanced up at her.

"Hermione, I've been meaning to ask," he said. "Whatever happened to that story you said Zabini was writing? I didn't see anything in the Prophet."

Hermione took a rather large gulp of water as she thought fast. At Harry's words, Ron looked around sharply.

"Zabini? What was he doing nosing around the Ministry? He should leave you alone, he should," he said fiercely while Mandy held onto his arm to keep him from standing up and up-ending the table.

Hermione took a second to think of an answer, hoping her face gave away nothing. "Oh, I think he said it wouldn't be printed for a while, or maybe they didn't end up printing it."

Harry frowned. "If it wasn't going to be printed, he shouldn't have had bothered you. I don't like him hanging around there."

"How many times has he been there?" Ron demanded.

Hermione sighed, not noticing Padma watching her carefully. "Only twice, and you are making too big of a deal out of it."

Ron looked disgruntled but only huffed and fell silent. Harry didn't look convinced either and Hermione knew it would take much more than verbal reassurance that Blaise was not up to anything.

Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin seemed to be Harry's mantra, at least when it came to Blaise and Malfoy.

Padma broke the silence that had sprung up with a wave of her wand and a bottle of champagne appeared on the table, accompanied with six flutes.

"Shall we toast to your birthday?" she asked, uncorking the bottle. "You're twenty-five now, Hermione, soon you'll be thirty."

"Don't remind me," Hermione said, tying to smile, but falling a bit short. The discussion about Blaise was still in her mind. If this was how they reacted to him simply paying her a visit at work, she couldn't imagine what they would do when it all came out. She saw Padma pick up a glass and fill it, handing it to her. "Oh no, I couldn't."

"Come on," Padma said. "It's your birthday and it's not like you're driving home."

"No," Hermione repeated. "I really shouldn't this late."

Padma paused, then handed the glass to Ginny on Hermione's left. The rest of the flutes were handed out and Padma conjured some sparkling cider for Hermione.

Harry raised his glass. "To Hermione, happy twenty-fifth and may she have many more." He raised the glass and they all drank.

After dinner, they all made their way into the sitting room with their drinks to spend the evening in pleasant conversation. Padma caught Hermione as she made to follow everyone else.

"Hermione, could I talk to you for a moment?"

Hermione hesitated, glancing to the sitting room where Harry and Ron were already, talking about the latest Quidditch match.

"Well, alright," she said finally.

Padma smiled and called to the boys. "We're just going to clean up in here," she said, and when she got a waved hand in response, she turned around and led Hermione, not into the kitchen, but down the hall to a small bedroom Harry had set up for guests.

Padma closed to door and turned the lights on with a wave of her wand. Hermione stood in the middle of the room, wondering what Padma could have on her mind that they had to go this much in private.

Turning around, Padma walked over to the bed and looked at Hermione, silent for only a minute as she looked her up and down.

Hermione frowned. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Precisely what I was going to ask you," Padma said calmly. When Hermione looked away, Padma sighed. "Hermione, I'm worried. You haven't been yourself lately, and don't say it's because of work," she added as Hermione opened her mouth. "I really wish you would tell me what's happening."

Hermione didn't say anything, knowing Padma was smart enough to figure it out, she just didn't want her to. Already, she could see it was beginning to be harder to hide. Almost out of habit, Hermione smoothed down her dress, drawing Padma's eyes to her stomach.

"Hermione," Padma said seriously. "Are you pregnant?"

* * *


	15. In the Air

Hermione's eyes widened and her hands stilled over her stomach, which she held almost protectively.

"What?" she asked, as if unsure of what she'd heard. Her voice was almost a whisper but quite clear in the near-empty room.

Padma seemed to sense the tension that had appeared in the room. She took a slow step toward Hermione, watching her carefully. "You've been staying home a lot, you say you're not sick, you're eating a lot, you won't drink alcohol. Hermione, tell me, please, are you pregnant?"

Hermione was staring at her in complete disbelief and fear. When Padma had asked her that question, she felt as if her throat had constricted painfully, blocking off air and causing tears to form in her eyes.

"I—I—" she stuttered for a moment, unable to think what to say. Then it all happened in a second. The emotions she'd been holding back for months came flowing to the surface.

She burst into tears and sank onto the bed, crying into her hands. She felt the bed sink down as Padma sat down on it as well, but didn't say anything. Her sobs were long and she felt as though she hadn't cried properly in a long time.

Padma said nothing as she sat on the bed with Hermione. She watched her friend dissolving into tears, saw her shoulders shaking as she cried, her hands covering her face.

Finally, her tears slowed and Hermione looked up. Her eyes were red and her face wet, but she felt marginally better. Gladly, she accepted the tissue Padma offered her.

"I—I'm sorry, Padma," she said, wiping her face. "I don't know what happened."

"You didn't answer my question," Padma said quietly. She stared into Hermione's eyes for a moment until Hermione broke the gaze, looking away, ashamed.

"Yes," she whispered.

Padma's mouth dropped open a little as though she hadn't really been expecting it. "You are?" she asked, incredulous. "But how? I mean, you're not seeing anyone, are you?"

"No," Hermione replied quietly, shaking her head and wiping away another tear with the tissue.

Padma looked perplexed for a second, then said. "Well, then who… How far along are you?"

Hermione sniffed, but seemed to be regaining her composure. "Five months." She glanced at Padma, seeing the calendar turning inside her head, knowing she was trying to figure out who the father could be by the date.

"You've kept this to yourself for five months?" Padma asked, now staring at Hermione. "Oh, Hermione, how did you? Does anyone else know? The father?"

Hermione paused, taking a reassuring breath. She almost felt relieved now that someone else knew, but a new worry was beginning to press upon her. "Yes, the father knows," she said finally. "And Padma, _please_, don't tell anyone. I can't have anyone know." She looked at her pleadingly.

Padma paused, her eyebrows coming together. "Why though? Hermione, you can use all the support you can get. If you're going to raise this child alone…"

"I'm not alone," Hermione said before she could stop herself.

"Hermione," Padma said slowly. "Who's the father?"

Hermione sighed. She had known it would come up eventually. It would be impossible to hide it from anyone. She'd already proven she was bad at concealment.

"It's…" she said unwillingly. She didn't want to reveal who it was, even to Padma.

Padma scooted closer, laying a hand over Hermione's. "Please, Hermione, I want to help. I won't tell Harry or anyone until you're ready, but please, tell me who it is. Do I know him?"

"You've met him," Hermione said evasively.

"Well, is he at least handsome? A gentlemen?"

"He is," Hermione said, thinking that he was sometimes.

Padma was quiet for a moment. "And you're not dating him at all. What kind of man is this?"

Hermione hesitated. "He's successful, attentive most of the time, he cares about the baby, I think…"

"Does he care about you?"

"I… I don't know," Hermione said finally.

Padma sighed, looking at Hermione plainly. "If you don't tell me who it is right now, I might just have to assume the worst and guess Harry."

Hermione actually laughed and Padma smiled, happy she could cheer Hermione up a little.

"It's not Harry, definitely not," Hermione said. Then she paused, her smile falling and she lowered her voice a little. "The father is Blaise."

She sat back and watched as the notches clicked into place in Padma's head.

"Blaise, Blaise Zabini?" Padma asked, her eyes widening again. "How did that happen?"

"I don't know!" Hermione cried. "He just showed up that day and then he came back and I don't know how it happened." She sniffed as she began to cry again. She hated not being able to control her emotions anymore. Damn hormones.

"It's okay," Padma said, pulling her into a tight hug. "I thought you and Blaise broke up."

"We did," Hermione said, her voice muffled in Padma shirt. "He said I was too immature or something. I don't know."

Padma scoffed. She'd never known anyone more mature than Hermione. If Blaise hadn't seen that, he was an idiot. She was still confused, though.

"You broke up more than six months ago, almost a year," she said. "So how can it be that you're only…"

"He… he came back," Hermione said, pulling away and feeling ashamed. "After we broke up, we still, well, he showed up at my apartment and somehow we slept together."

"Just once?"

Hermione flushed, still looking anywhere but at Padma. "No, more than once, but I couldn't stop it."

Padma was silent for a moment, absorbing it all. "And now you're pregnant. I hope he stepped up." Her tone was cold and Hermione looked up quickly.

"He did, Padma, please don't get defensive. This is exactly what I'm worried about. You saw how Ron reacted at the mere mention of him tonight. I don't want Blaise to have to go into hiding because of Harry and Ron.

Padma stared at her for a second, then sighed. "I suppose you're right. I'll try to be diplomatic."

"Thank you," Hermione said seriously. "And don't worry. Blaise is doing really well now. I think he's trying."

"Good," Padma said. "I would hope he's treating you well." She paused for a moment, then leaned in closer, seriously. "What's going on with you and him, then? Have you discussed anything?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, uneasy.

"Are you getting back together?" Padma asked seriously. "Does he still care about you? Do you still care about him?"

Hermione was taken aback at these questions. No one had asked her that before. She hadn't really given it a lot of thought.

"We're not getting back together," she said, fairly sure she was right. "I don't know how he feels… I haven't asked him."

"What about you?"

Hermione looked away. She didn't know and she almost didn't want to find out. She had a suspicion that the answer would complicate things even more than they already were.

"I don't know," she said finally.

Padma didn't pursue the topic. Instead, she leaned back. "So you won't tell anyone?"

Hermione shook her head. "I can't, not yet. Can I count on you?"

Padma looked hesitant, but in the end, she agreed she wouldn't tell anyone. After making sure Hermione's make-up was normal, they returned to the sitting room with everyone else, saying only the dishes had took longer than they thought.

Hermione spent the rest of the evening in relative silence, thinking over what had just happened with Padma. She had known eventually someone would find out, but she hadn't thought it would be so soon. She had to admit, though, it was nice having someone other than Blaise who knew.

At the end of the night, she wished everyone a goodnight, getting a few last minute happy-birthdays. She was relieved when the door shut behind her and she was able to Apparate to her flat for a bit of silent contemplation.

OoOoO

September nineteenth fell on a Tuesday, three days after Hermione's birthday dinner at Harry's. The nineteenth, her actual birthday, passed without much affair. At work, she received a few cards and even a cake. Harry stopped by again to wish her happy birthday.

He acted completely normal, which made Hermione believe that Padma had kept her promise. She was glad for this. She knew now it hadn't been a mistake to tell her.

Hermione arrived home that afternoon to a bouquet of flowers on her kitchen counter along with a handwritten note.

Perplexed, she unfolded the note and skimmed the contents. It was from Blaise, requesting that she come over to his house that evening. Smelling the flowers, Hermione thought that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea. After all, lately, he'd been much better about everything.

So that night around six o'clock, Hermione Apparated to Blaise's house. As she looked up at the large manor, she felt oddly sick. The last time she had come to this house, Blaise had broken up with her.

Shaking away the feeling, she knocked three times on the large front door. Moments later, a woman answered the door and showed Hermione into the foyer, storing her coat in a cupboard.

The woman left and Hermione waited awkwardly in the hall. It hadn't changed much in a year. The same crystal vase stood in the corner, unused and unnecessary in Hermione's opinion, but Blaise's mother had given it to him, therefore it had to be displayed.

Hermione turned as she heard a noise. Blaise was coming towards her from the sitting room area.

"Hermione," he said, sounding pleased. "I'm glad you came." He produced a white rose from behind his back and handed it to her. "Happy birthday."

Hermione was surprised that he remembered and accepted the rose quietly. "Thank you."

Blaise put a hand on her lower back, steering her out of the foyer and into the sitting room.

"How are you?" he asked as she took a seat on one of his leather settees.

"I'm doing fine," Hermione said slowly. "Blaise, how did you know it was my birthday?"

Blaise shrugged noncommittally. "I have my ways." He didn't mention that he had never forgotten her birthday. He waved his wand, conjuring a glass of ice water and he handed it to her. "How has the day been so far?"

Hermione was still suspicious of his actions, but accepted the water and answered his question. "It's been good. Harry stopped by the office and I received a few cards." Blaise nodded slowly. Hermione frowned. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" Blaise asked.

"You've never celebrated anything with me," she said. "Why start now?"

Blaise didn't appear to react, simply took a sip of his drink and watched her closely. "I was never there to celebrate anything," he replied simply.

It was perfectly true. The only major holiday that had passed while they had been together was Christmas, and they had spent it apart. Blaise's birthday was in the spring so they had never gotten to celebrate it and her last birthday, he'd been out of the country.

Hermione frowned again at his answer. He was being vague. "Why did you invite me here?" she asked. "Surely it wasn't to discuss our past celebrations."

Blaise took a moment before saying, "No, it wasn't. I have something I'd like to show you."

Hermione watched in surprise as he stood up and waited for her to do the same. "Something to show me? What is it?"

"A surprise, unless you want me to ruin it," Blaise said simply, leading the way out of the sitting room and down the hallway Hermione knew led to the drawing room and kitchen. Instead of leading her into the kitchen, he took a left turn down a hall Hermione had never ventured.

She walked behind him, eyes taking in the large mullioned windows on either side of them that let the late afternoon sunlight stream in, casting long orange and yellow squares on the floor.

Blaise led her to the very end of the hallway where a double door stood. He stopped and turned to Hermione.

He paused as she came to a stop, still staring around her at this unfamiliar hall. "I meant to show this to you a long time ago," he said and Hermione looked at him curiously.

He said nothing more and pulled open the heavy doors.

Hermione's mouth dropped open and she gave a gasp as she walked into a huge room filled to the top with books upon books upon books. The bookshelves ran all the way to the top with stairs leading to the second level against the wall. In the middle of the room was a dark brown couch and armchair, both of which faced the large window on the opposite side.

Hermione was mesmerized as she looked around the room, her hands itching to read all the books. She couldn't believe this had been hidden inside Blaise's manor. Her eyes stared around the entire room, wondering how many books there were. It was like a fantasy come true.

Beside her, Blaise was watching her carefully. He'd been trying to think of what to do for her birthday, knowing it had to be something big and thoughtful. Ever since his last visit, he'd been thinking a lot about what the situation had become and what he wanted to happen.

He had figured that something like this, something that peaked her interest, would be the best way show her he actually cared and listened.

"Oh, Blaise," Hermione breathed as she continued staring at all the books. "This is amazing."

"You like it?"

"It's incredible," Hermione breathed, heading to one of the shelves and running her fingers over a dusty gold-embossed spine. "How did you get all these?"

Blaise shrugged. "Step-fathers mostly," he said. "My mother also bought me books whenever she went out of the country."

Hermione was barely listening as she read all the titles. She wondered how long it would take her to read all the books in that library. Months, years maybe, she guessed.

"Have you read them all?" she asked, too busy looking at the books to look at him.

Blaise had taken a seat in the armchair and was watching her rapture. "Some. I don't have enough time to read them all."

She was impressed. She hadn't thought he would care enough to read all these books. Most people who had giant libraries hardly bothered to read what was inside them.

Hermione tore her eyes away from the books and looked at Blaise. Her face was full of gratitude and Blaise felt a strange feeling in his chest that he couldn't explain. She came over to him and he stood up.

"Blaise, this is the best present anyone has ever given me," she said sincerely, hugging him lightly.

He placed his arms around her waist and held her for a second. It was cozy for that moment as the sun set behind the window and the lamps came on around them. Blaise closed his eyes for a second but opened them as soon as Hermione pulled away.

Clearing his throat, he sat back down and Hermione did the same on the couch, still staring around her in wonder.

Blaise watched her for a moment, wondering if he had done the right thing. She seemed to sense he was watching her and turned to him.

"What?" she asked, a little disconcerted.

Blaise paused a second, then sat forward in his chair. "Can I ask you something?"

Hermione glanced at him curiously. "I guess."

"When we were dating, near the end, what did you think?"

Hermione had a sudden flash of standing in Blaise's front door as rain cascaded from the sky and tears leaked down her cheeks. Blaise stood before her, his expression cold as he shut the door in her face.

She blinked and found herself in front of Blaise in the library. Outside, the sky was growing darker but rain was nowhere in sight. Blaise was watching her earnestly.

She looked away from him. "I was happy," she started. "I thought you were too, even though I could tell you were pulling away."

Blaise said nothing, knowing what she was saying was perfectly true. He had pulled away a lot in the last few weeks of their relationship.

"When you invited me to dinner that last night, I wasn't sure what to think. It is really hard to know what you're thinking sometimes, Blaise. I thought maybe you were going to do something to explain your behavior over the previous few weeks, and I was right, though it wasn't what I was thinking."

Blaise's eyebrows came together as he listened.

"I got ready that evening expecting something different," Hermione said, still not meeting Blaise's eyes. "We had dinner and you were the perfect gentleman, acting as though nothing was wrong. I thought things were going well and maybe you'd finally gotten over your reserve of dating me." She sighed. "I know I'm not the perfect girl you're expected to marry. I work too much, I'm not as pretty as most girls, I care about different matters than you do. My focus wasn't on finding the perfect husband or spending as much time as I could relaxing. Your mother didn't, doesn't, like me but I had thought that maybe you could see past it then. Obviously I was wrong."

Blaise was beginning to see what Hermione might have been expecting that evening. "When you came over…"

Hermione sighed again. "I was foolish to believe imparted values could be overcome. I suppose I should have seen it, but when you told me you wanted to see other people, I was… for lack of a better word, crushed. I admit I was surprised by it and I didn't want it to be true, but it was obvious you were serious." She gazed at the carpet, finally looking up at the window where the sky had turned a dusky blue.

Blaise didn't know what to say. He'd never heard her side of the story before. He remembered telling her it was over, seeing her face fall and then the anger followed by more tears. He remembered the words she'd said to him, accusing him of being selfish and egotistical. At the time, he'd told himself it was for the best. She didn't know what she was saying anyway.

"Hermione," he said slowly and she glanced at him for a second before looking away again. "Did you ever love me?"

Silence stretched between them as Hermione looked intently out the window and Blaise waited for the answer. Finally, Hermione hung her head and replied quietly. "I don't know. I just don't know."

No one said anything more as they sat in the library, watching the stars creep out from their blanketed sleep and twinkle brightly in the cool September night.


	16. These Days

Hermione left Blaise's that evening confused and tired

Hermione left Blaise's that evening confused and tired. Being forced to relive the last few weeks of their relationship was tiring. Hermione had tried not to think about it, had nearly blocked it out entirely.

She hadn't told Blaise everything. Some things were just too shameful to admit. That night she'd gone over there, she had been expecting him to propose. She'd never told anyone this and never planned to.

When he'd wanted to break up, her heart had been smashed, cracked into tiny pieces and she could hear the crunch as he'd stood up to show her to the door.

Tonight, when he'd asked if she had ever loved him, she also hadn't told the entire truth, but knowing the damage it could do, she hadn't. Yes, she had fallen in love with him while they had been together, though had never said it. She was afraid of driving him away and by the way things had turned out, she was glad she'd never told him.

A part of her wanted to tell him what she'd really felt and find out if he'd ever felt the same. Another part told her it was foolish to believe he could care for anyone but himself.

She had convinced herself that she no longer cared for him. For many months, she'd told herself he was a jerk who cared for no one, too selfish to think of loving another person. These ideas had only been reinforced by Ron and Harry, who were only too quick to say everything she was thinking only ten times worse.

She'd thought she was over him, was prepared to move on and begin dating, when he returned. It had been a shock to find him in her sitting room, acting as if no time had gone by, but making it perfectly clear the reason he was there.

Hermione sighed as she unlocked the door to her flat and turned on a light. Rubbing her forehead where a headache was forming, she tossed her purse onto the couch and made for the kitchen.

She grabbed a glass from the cupboard and turned to the faucet, stilling as she caught sight of something on the counter.

A single white rose lay on top of a piece of parchment. With a glance around, she picked up the paper, unfolding the note.

_Hermione,_

I hope you're feeling alright. The evening didn't go exactly as I planned. On a more pressing note, as the baby is only four months away, I think we need to discuss some more important matters. Will you consent to lunch on Friday? Please answer by return owl.

-Blaise

She paused for a moment, sniffing the rose and twirling it between her fingers. She wasn't sure if she was ready to face him after what she'd just revealed.

Knowing, however, that they did have real things to discuss, Hermione decided it would be best to put on a business face and carry on business as usual. Dictating a simple reply, she sent it off with Kore and retreated to her room for some well-deserved sleep.

OoOoO

Blaise remained in the library long after Hermione left. He was thinking about what she'd said, and what she hadn't said. He'd never thought that it had affected her so much, the way he'd acted towards her near the end.

He knew he'd been cold, pulling away without explanation. Even Pansy had noticed, apparently. He didn't know she'd cared so much.

Blaise had never truly examined the reason he had broken up with Hermione. At the time, he'd told himself it was because she wasn't his type, that it wasn't going anywhere, but now that he looked back and thought about it, he realized there had been other factors at play.

His mother, for instance, had never liked Hermione and never missed a chance to tell Blaise how much better he could do. Draco and Pansy had been indifferent, though Draco had asked repetitively what Blaise saw in her. Blaise had never been able to explain what it was, something about the way she acted, how she carried herself, how intelligent she was. He was never able to convey these things to Draco.

When they'd been apart, he'd tried to go out but found it tiring and the girls all the same. One day, a few months after the break-up, Pansy had mentioned that Hermione was dating again. Pansy had always been a shameless gossip. Blaise had ignored it most of his life but this little piece of information had sent a hot wave of jealousy, perhaps, through his stomach.

He hadn't been able to figure out the feeling but took it to mean he had to see Hermione. His subconscious mind was determined to talk her out of going on the date.

By going there that night, he'd started an irreversible trend. He hadn't meant to, but seeing her again after months had done something to his senses.

Lately, he felt as though something was happening to him. He didn't go out with Pansy and Draco half as much as he used to. He'd begun avoiding his mother when she came to call, knowing she would only try to set him up again. He'd gone out with the last girl and had barely lasted through dinner.

He didn't want the vapid, shallow blondes anymore. They had no substance, nothing to intrigue him. The more he thought, the more he knew who he wanted, who he had always wanted. The problem now was what to do, how to tell her.

Blaise sighed and rose from the couch in the library. Walking down the hall to the sitting room, he considered what to do. He didn't suppose out and out telling her would be a good idea.

In the sitting room, he grabbed a quill and piece of parchment, drafting a short letter and sending it out with his owl. He sat down in an armchair and glanced out the dark window. He wondered if he was doing the right thing.

OoOoO

Pansy checked her watch for the third time and glanced at the door. Beside her, Draco was sipping some green and blue drink, toying with the tiny umbrella.

"How the hell do they make these so small?" he asked, plunking it back in his drink.

Pansy turned to him, raising an appraising eyebrow. "Inquiring about Muggles, are you?" she asked. "That's a first."

Draco scowled. "I was merely inquiring about the manufacturing of an object." Then he slid off his seat with a glare and disappeared into the dancing crowd.

Pansy rolled her eyes and watched him go.

"Fancy a drink?" A low voice sounded next to her ear and she smirked, leaning back into the man standing behind her.

"I'd love one," she said, turning around now. "And an explanation."

Blaise slid into the next seat and signaled the bartender for two drinks. He turned back to Pansy, who was wearing an intrigued expression. Sliding his elbows forward, he leaned forward.

"You might get one," he said casually. "You got my note?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" she replied, smiling at the waiter who gave her her drink. She kept her eyes on him as he walked back to the counter then turned back to Blaise. "So why did you want to meet me?"

Blaise leaned back and took a swig of his drink. "All in good time, Pans, let's just relax for a while."

He glanced over as Draco came strutting out of the mass of writhing bodies as colored lights flashed over the top of them. He slid into his seat and appeared surprised to see Blaise.

"Well, well," he drawled. "Look who's made it out of Azkaban."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blaise asked.

"That Manor of yours must be an impenetrable fortress," Draco said, finishing his drink in one swallow. "You haven't been out of it in weeks, especially to the club. What happened? Your mother finally find the one? When's the wedding? I refuse to wear Muggle-wear as your best man."

Blaise rolled his eyes. It always came back to his mother, like he couldn't make decisions on his own.

"I've just been busy at work," he said finally.

"Work," Draco scoffed. "I still don't understand why the fuck you work, Blaise. You've got enough gold to live on forever. Isabella's made sure of that."

Blaise chose to take a drink rather than respond. He knew he had plenty of money, but he couldn't stand the thought of doing nothing all day. He knew Draco traveled a lot and spent most of his nights out, with Pansy no less. He had been like that at one point, though he had always known he'd rather work than become a rich, available bachelor.

He watched as an attractive girl floated past, dragging her friend. When she caught Blaise looking at her, she giggled and pulled her friend faster. Blaise pulled his eyes away and took a drink, looking up to find Pansy watching him carefully.

"What?" he asked, setting down his drink and raising an eyebrow.

Pansy said nothing for a second, then leaned over to Draco. "Draco, you have something in your hair."

Immediately, Draco raised his hands to his hair. "Where? What is it? Pansy, get it out!"

"I can't get it," Pansy said calmly.

Draco huffed dramatically and took off for the bathroom. Blaise watched him go, knowing Pansy had done it to get him alone. He glanced back at her, knowing she was watching him intently.

"Why did you want to talk to me, Blaise?" she asked suddenly, never one to beat around the bush.

"I just had a simple question for you," he said calmly.

"Oh yeah?" Pansy pressed suspiciously. "Something you couldn't just ask in an owl?"

"Well, I'd prefer a straight answer and in person seems better for those kinds of questions," Blaise said.

Pansy made an agreeable sign. "Alright, so what's the million galleon question?"

Blaise drained his drink and signaled for another. "Pansy, have you ever been in a serious relationship?"

Pansy appeared taken aback for a second. "You know that answer, Blaise," she said finally. "I have no plans of having a serious relationship until I find an old, fabulously rich man with no children."

"Decided to be my mother, have you?" Blaise asked dryly.

Pansy ignored the slight. "I have many more years ahead of me before I'll be forced into a serious relationship." She regarded Blaise for a second. "That wasn't the question you wanted me to answer."

"No," Blaise said simply, nodding in thanks to the server as another drink was set down in front of him and removed Draco's empty glass. Draco still had not returned.

"Well, I haven't got all night," she said impatiently. "If you haven't noticed, there are some lovely boys by the bar."

"No, I hadn't," Blaise replied. "Pansy, have you ever been in love?"

Pansy was silent for a moment. "I thought, once, maybe."

"And what happened?"

"I grew up," she said finally. She gave him an appraising eye. "What's with the questions, Blaise? Was Draco right? Has your mother finally found the one? Shall I start shopping for an outfit?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Blaise said coldly. "I only wanted to know if that person you were in love with showed up right now and told you he loved you, what would you do?"

Pansy stared at him. "I'd curse him," she said at last.

"Why?"

"Because that bastard waited all this time to figure out his feelings after I've moved on. He had plenty of time to tell me how he felt but instead we went our own ways. He should have done it sooner." She paused. "Why do you want to know?"

"Research," he said vaguely, taking a sip of his drink.

Her eyes narrowed. "Thinking about proclaiming to a lost love?" she asked in a sickly sweet voice. "Jenna turned out to be that special after all?"

Blaise didn't look at her, instead scanning the crowd, seeing the same pretty girl who'd blushed at him earlier dancing with a tall man. "You wouldn't understand," he said loftily.

Pansy opened her mouth to argue but Draco finally returned to the table, looking pissed. "You lied, Pansy," he growled. "There was nothing there. And I had to go into that disgusting washroom. It could use a good Cleaning Charm."

As Pansy and Draco began to bicker, Blaise took his leave, sliding into the crowd, and was soon dancing with the pretty girl, forgotten, but not completely by Pansy, who kept her eyes on him long after he left the table.

OoOoO

Hermione glanced around carefully, making sure no one she knew was around. She followed the server as she led her to a small table near the back of the restaurant. Thanking the woman, Hermione sat down, not bothering to remove her coat. The weather was growing colder as October crept upon them. Hermione was glad for this, as it gave her an excuse to wear bulkier clothes to hide her growing stomach.

She waited about five minutes before Blaise showed up, sliding into his chair quietly. He didn't look quite as nervous as she did.

"Hello," Hermione said finally when he said nothing. "Lovely evening."

Blaise nodded and picked up the menu. Hermione frowned. "Are you at least going to tell me why you asked me here?"

"Let's get through the hors d'oeuvres before we start a fight, alright?" Blaise asked from behind the menu.

Hermione rolled her eyes but also picked up her menu. Soon, they had ordered and Hermione was sipping a glass of water, wondering exactly what they were going to discuss. She had a few things she wanted to bring up.

Blaise took a drink and set it down, glancing around the room. He was really only putting off what he knew he wanted to ask her. He'd spent most of the week trying to figure out the best way to put it.

Hermione sighed and looked at Blaise. "I thought we were here to discuss what we're going to do after the… _baby_ is born." She lowered her voice to a whisper at the word baby.

Blaise finally looked back at her. "Yes, I wanted to talk to you about that."

"Well?" Hermione asked as he paused. She didn't like being so exposed in a restaurant with Blaise. If anyone saw them, awkward questions would certainly arise.

"Your due date is soon, only four months," he said slowly and quietly. "We haven't done much to prepare. There's a Healer's appointment next week, but we haven't bought anything, we haven't decided how this is going to work."

"You mean custody?" Hermione asked.

Blaise paused. "I had another idea."

"What?" Hermione asked suspiciously, noticing he seemed to be hesitating. She had never known Blaise to be hesitant. He usually went for whatever he wanted with ruthless precision.

"Hermione," Blaise said seriously. "I want you to move in with me."


	17. An Answer

Hermione was shocked into silence, barely acknowledging the server as their food came

Hermione was shocked into silence, barely acknowledging the server as their food came. She was staring at Blaise like she couldn't believe what she'd just heard. The sounds of the other diners intruded on the silence; the clinking of glass, tinks of silverware.

The silence stretched on and Blaise waited. Finally, Hermione seemed to come out of her stupor and stared at him.

"Are you crazy?!" she hissed, as though afraid the other patrons might be listening in.

"I hope not," Blaise said calmly, though his heart was beating madly against his chest. "I want you to move in."

"With you?" Hermione repeated, dropping her eyes to her untouched plate, her eyebrows coming together as she tried to figure out why in Merlin's name Blaise would want her to move in with him.

"No, with my mother," Blaise said sarcastically. "Of course with me. What do you say?"

Hermione's eyes snapped up. "I say you're insane," she snapped. "I can't move in with you. What would people say?"

Blaise had known this would come up. "We're going to have to tell them eventually."

"I don't see why I have to move in, though," Hermione said. "I'm perfectly fine in my flat."

"Maybe now, but what about after? It's not big enough for everything we'll need."

"We?" Hermione repeated. "We still haven't discussed your capacity in raising this baby."

"I've already told you, Hermione, I plan on helping, whether you like it or not."

Hermione rolled her eyes and glared at her plate once more. She didn't know what to say. She liked her flat, but having a bigger house for a baby would be nice. She was worried what a move to Blaise's house would incur.

"Why should I move in?" she demanded, wanting a clear, reasonable reason.

"One, because there, we'll have room to put everything a baby needs. Two, I have staff that can help."

"I don't need hel—"

"I know you don't." Blaise sighed. "But it'll be nice to have them around."

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "Why now?"

"Why not now? There's only four months left and there are a lot of things we haven't done."

"But people will know—"

"They don't have to," Blaise interrupted quietly. "You could keep your flat if you want, and maybe someday, go back to it, if you really wanted. You don't have to tell anyone you've moved."

"They'll figure it out." Hermione sighed. "Harry will, and Padma, she…"

"Padma what?" Blaise asked. He saw Hermione pushing her food around her plate, not meeting his eyes. "She what, Hermione?"

There was a second's pause before Hermione looked up finally. "I told her."

She watched Blaise anxiously. When he didn't say anything for a minute, she bit her lip. "Well, she found out," she said quickly. "I didn't really tell her. She asked me and I couldn't just lie to her face when she asked me. She promised she wouldn't tell Harry, but if we move in together, he'd figure it out, I know he would. Blaise," she said pleadingly. "Say something."

He hadn't said a word, but was gazing at her, an indiscernible expression on his face. He blinked as the server refilled his drink and moved away. He looked at Hermione now.

"It's okay," he said finally. "The more people who know, the better."

Hermione let out a relieved sigh and actually took a bite of her food.

"You still haven't answered me," Blaise said quietly. "I want you to move in with me, Hermione. It'll be easier on both of us. You won't be so far away when you need something. I can always get out of work."

"Your mother," Hermione said shortly.

"What about her?"

Hermione gave him a frustrated glare because he didn't seem to understand her. "Your mother practically lives at your house, Blaise," she said. "Surely you've noticed? How would you hide this from her?"

"She hasn't been over in a while," Blaise said lightly.

Hermione was stunned. "Why not?"

Blaise shrugged. "Hasn't had the inclination, I suppose."

Hermione gave him a mistrustful look. "She's going to find out as well, eventually. What will you tell her?"

"I've already told you," Blaise sighed. "She won't care."

"Yes, she will," Hermione said forcefully. "I know enough about Isabella Zabini to know that she cares very much who you take to bed."

"Can we please not use my mother's name and the word bed in the same sentence?"

Hermione ignored him. "My point is, she is not going to be happy, no matter how much you butter her up. I will always be the girl who ruined your future."

"You did not," Blaise said, rolling his eyes.

"She doesn't see it that way," Hermione said bitterly.

"Look," Blaise said suddenly, losing some of his provincial cool. "This isn't about my mother, it's about us, and the baby. We have to make decisions based on that. Now, will you or won't you move into the Manor?"

Hermione sighed and glanced at her plate again. She'd barely touched her dinner.

"I have to think about it," she said quietly.

"Fine," Blaise said, and they spent the rest of the meal in relative silence.

OoOoO

The next week was an agonizing wait as Blaise waited for Hermione's response. He planned to ask her again at the doctor's appointment next week, hoping it would be sufficient time for her to make up her mind.

He knew it was a big deal. He had known she wouldn't like the idea at first, but if he'd gotten across enough of the benefits, she might consider it. There was one other reason he had not told her of his desire for her to move in.

After talking to Pansy, he'd determined that a straightforward semi-declaration of his feelings, or what he thought anyway, was a bad idea. Instead, he had decided that asking her to move in was the only logical progression.

If she moved in and they were together in a regular environment, Hermione might be more open to a real relationship again. He wasn't entirely sure of her feelings at the moment and wasn't too eager to find out. He couldn't imagine she was really in a good place when it came to him. He had, after all, got her into this mess.

He only hoped she would see the benefits of moving to the Manor and say yes. He'd never realized how nerve-wracking it was to count on another person. He'd hardly done it when he was younger.

When he'd gone to Hogwarts, he had been a loner, for lack of a better term. He didn't have very many close friends. Draco had been his only real acquaintance, and even then they hadn't been good friends.

His only focus in school had been keeping his grades up and staying out of the war. He'd refused to pick sides. The strategy had worked and he had come out neutral and on top. He didn't want to rely on someone else for his future.

All the girls he'd ever dated in school had been merely for fun. He'd never really wanted anything more than a few nights from them.

Now, though, he was counting on Hermione. He wanted her to move in, to live with him, to wake up and find her in the same house as him. The idea made his stomach squirm a bit with nerves. He'd never done anything so down-home with any girl before.

Blaise whiled away the week, nervously awaiting Friday, when he hoped Hermione would put him out of his agony with an answer. He didn't know how much longer he could wait.

Friday came finally and Blaise Apparated to the Healer's office, on time for once. He supposed making her happy by being punctual could help. Hermione was there already, as he knew she would be.

Quietly, Blaise pushed open the door, hearing the tinkle of the bell above his head. Hermione's head turned immediately in his direction.

"You're on time." She sounded surprised.

"I like to surprise you," he replied smoothly, taking the seat next to her. He glanced over. She was still wearing her coat, attempting to hide the bulge of her stomach. She was getting bigger, Blaise could tell. He wondered how much longer she would be able to hide it.

Hermione looked even more surprised at Blaise's response and didn't respond. Instead, she grabbed a magazine and shook it open.

Blaise glanced around carefully. A man was seated in the corner with some sort of purple spots on his face, but otherwise the waiting room was empty. Blaise leaned into Hermione.

"Hermione," he whispered and she tilted her head up a bit from the magazine. "Have you thought anymore about what I asked you?"

Hermione didn't appear to have heard because she was silent for a minute until, she muttered, "After the appointment."

Blaise frowned. He didn't want to wait until after the appointment. He could be an impatient man.

He forced himself to sit back, though, picking up a magazine and riffling through it unseeingly. It seemed like an eternity until Hermione's name was called and they went back to see the Healer.

Hermione sat on the table again and Blaise stood by her side. Healer Robinson bustled in moments later, a cheerful smile on his face.

"Good morning, good morning!" he said happily, turning to face both of them. "How are you two today?"

Blaise glanced at Hermione. "We're doing well, thank you."

"Good, good," said the Healer distractedly. He was already waving his wand over Hermione, muttering spells under his breath. "I see you've been taking good care of yourself, Ms. Granger."

"Oh," Hermione said, looking pleased. "Well, yes, I read all the pamphlets and I also bought a few books, like _Pregnancy is as Pregnancy Does_ and _Painless Pregnancy_ and _Don't Forget the Bottle_."

"My, we've got a reader here, don't we?" Healer Robinson cried.

"Got that right," Blaise muttered.

Hermione's eyes narrowed and he glanced away. He hadn't meant to do it. Instead, he added. "Hermione's always prepared."

"That's good," Healer Robinson commented, still waving his wand over Hermione. "Always good to be prepared." He paused, lifting his wand. "You've reserved a space in a Hospital for the birth, yes?"

Blaise glanced at Hermione, knowing they hadn't. "Uh…"

"No matter," the Healer said. "There's plenty of time, but I wouldn't wait if I were you."

He continued waving his wand in circles for a few more minutes until he was satisfied. He tapped a piece of paper and a report came up. He placed this in a file and turned back to Hermione and Blaise.

"Now, there's a small matter, some people like to know, others don't," the Healer said.

"What?" Hermione asked nervously.

"The sex of the baby," the Healer said. "Would you like to know?"

"Yes," said Blaise.

"No," said Hermione at the same time. They looked at each other.

Blaise looked at Hermione for a second, then turned to the Healer. "No, don't tell us."

"Alright," Healer Robinson said, looking between them. "In that case, Ms. Granger, you are perfectly healthy. Keep doing what you're doing and you should be perfectly fine. Owl me if you have any problems."

"Um, Healer?" Hermione asked. "What about Apparating?"

"Oh yes," the Healer said. "You should be okay for another month or so, but after that I would stop any travel by Apparition."

Hermione nodded, looking worried. Blaise saw this and stepped in. "Thank you, Healer. We'll owl if we have any questions."

He and Hermione left the office, the tinkling door swinging shut behind them. Once outside of the office, Blaise turned to Hermione.

"Are you going to answer my question now," he asked, "or wait until after the baby is born?"

Hermione sighed as she stopped. After a second's pause, she looked up at him. "I've been thinking about it a lot. I'm still not sure why you want to do this so much, but I do admit you have a point. Being closer to you, and in a bigger house, would be much easier when we finally have this thing." She paused and stared over his shoulder. "I guess I'm trying to say is that I will move in with you."

There was silence after her last words. Blaise could hardly believe she had agreed.

"You will?" he asked after a moment of digesting it.

Hermione nodded, moving her eyes to him. "Yes."

"That's great," he said, breaking into a smile. He moved forward only to stop, unsure what he was going to do.

Hermione was staring at him, her eyes on his and her head tilted upward to look at him. Slowly, Blaise moved forward, leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

Hermione blinked in surprise but said nothing as he backed away.

"When?" he asked, as though nothing unusual had just happened.

"I…" Hermione said, feeling slightly flustered from the kiss. "Soon, I guess."

Blaise nodded, thinking. "You won't need too much, your clothes, other small things, your books, of course."

Hermione said nothing, still trying to figure out what had just happened. Blaise was talking as though the moment hadn't existed.

"What about Sunday?" Blaise asked. When Hermione didn't respond, he asked, "Hermione?"

"What?" Hermione asked, startled out of her musings. "Y-yes, Sunday's fine."

"Good, I'll see you then," Blaise said curtly, turning and Apparating away.

Hermione was left in front of the Healer's office, confused and unable to explain what had just happened. 


	18. Domesticity

"John?"

"Too plain. Hugo?"

"Do you want him to have a bull's-eye on him his whole life?"

"Well, you think of a better one." Hermione crossed her arms and glared at Blaise from the couch. They were sitting in his living room, several of Hermione's books spread across his coffee table.

The one Blaise was holding was entitled, "Baby Names Guaranteed to Please." So far, they hadn't done very much pleasing.

"Alright," Blaise said, riffling through the book. "How about Mitchel?"

Hermione made a face and grabbed a different book from the table. "No," she said. "What about Damien? That's a cute name."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. They'd decided to try to pick out potential names and had spent the past hour rejecting one after the other. He'd had no idea it was such a big deal to choose a name.

"Alright, alright," Hermione said at his look. "No Damien. Blaise, this is impossible. We've already gone through about a hundred names and there isn't one we both like, and this is only the boys!"

"We'll find one," Blaise said, not looking up from his book. He was cruising down a list of C names at the moment. "What about Chandler?"

"Too gay," Hermione said dismissively. "Besides, how does Chandler Zabini-Granger sound to you?"

"Maybe you're right," Blaise murmured. He flipped to the next page. "Charles, Christopher, Casey, Cameron?"

Hermione glanced at him with a skeptical expression on her face. Blaise sighed and tossed the book aside. "Maybe C names aren't good for us."

Hermione shook her head. They were quiet for a moment as Blaise stretched back and closed his eyes, trying for the life of him to think of a boy's name he liked.

"Oh!" Hermione said suddenly. Blaise's eyes shot open and he sat up.

"What happened?" he asked urgently.

Hermione had a hand on her stomach and was staring. "The baby kicked," she said slowly.

"That's good, right?" Blaise asked, unsure.

Hermione actually smiled. "Yes, it's good."

He nodded and sat back in his chair, calming his heart that had jumped to his throat in the momentary panic. As Blaise stared at the pure white ceiling of his sitting room, he attempted to find a name he would want to name a child and have to say for the rest of his life.

He sat up suddenly as a name popped into his head. "I have a name."

Hermione looked up at him from her book. "What is it?"

"Kaiser," Blaise said.

"Kaiser?" Hermione repeated, feeling it out. "Kaiser Zabini-Granger. It has an interesting ring to it."

"I like it," Blaise said slowly. He hadn't been sure at first, but hearing it come from Hermione's mouth somehow made it even better.

"Kaiser," Hermione murmured to herself. "Kai…Kaiser Zabini, Kaiser Granger, Kaiser Zabini-Granger." She looked up at him. "I like it too." She sounded surprised.

Blaise grinned. "So we've finally got the boy's name," he said. "Took long enough."

Hermione made a motion of agreement. "Yes, now we've just got to pick a girl's name."

"Let's save that for another time," Blaise said, sitting back in his chair and shutting his eyes.

Hermione paused with her hand halfway towards another baby name book. With a glance at Blaise, she withdrew it and sat back on the couch.

She watched him for a few moments, thinking. It had been two days since Blaise had come to her flat and helped her move her things to his house. Most of it had been relatively easy to move, except when it came to her books.

She had nearly an entire closet full and it had taken several trips to get it all. As of now, they were packed away in the spare bedroom's closet where Hermione was staying. Her clothes had been neatly packed in the dresser by the maid. Hermione had to admit it was nice to have help and she was obliged to approve since Blaise paid them more than was expected.

Hermione found life at Zabini Manor fairly quiet. When they'd been dating, she hadn't really spent much quiet time in the Manor. Her memories were flurried, full of glimpses of other rooms on the way to the master bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, the sitting room. That was about it.

Now that she had more time alone in the Manor, she found out it was very large. She'd ventured about a few times since arriving and had found rooms she hadn't even known existed.

All in all, she spent most of her time in the library. It was the quietest place in the house. She still wasn't sure she'd made the right decision moving into Blaise's house, but he'd been nothing but accommodating since she arrived. Granted, he was still aloof at times, vague about his reasons for wanting her to move in.

Hermione hadn't forgotten about the kiss either. Blaise hadn't mentioned it. In fact, Hermione wasn't even sure he remembered it. He hadn't acted any differently since it had happened and she wasn't going to bring it up in case it started something she couldn't stop.

She had tried not to think about what it might mean. Her stomach jumped every time she did. She told herself it had been a fluke, a mistake.

She glanced at Blaise, who was sitting casually in the adjacent armchair and staring out the window. Outside, the wind was blowing through the trees; leaves were fluttering over the ground. Fall had come and the weather was turning colder by the day.

Hermione's thoughts turned to work and what she was going to do about it. She knew that pregnant witches could take time off after the baby was born, but she hadn't told anyone yet. Soon, she would no longer be able to Apparate to work, which would present a problem. She had work to do, cases to work on. She couldn't just leave them.

She hadn't discussed this with Blaise yet. His work was flexible. He hardly went into the office, mostly doing his own research on his articles and then sending them in.

As Hermione watched Blaise without really seeing him, she had an idea. If she could pull it off, it would work perfectly and no one would suspect anything.

Safe in the knowledge of a plan, Hermione grabbed a name book from the coffee table and settled back to find a few girls' names she liked.

OoOoO

Hermione stood behind her desk, gathering papers and placing them in her bag carefully, organizing them alphabetically. Next, she turned to the filing cabinets and began pulling out files, placing them in her bag as well. She'd had to perform a space enhancing charm on the bag in order to fit it all.

She'd already been to her boss that morning to ask if she would be able to work from home for a few weeks or months, as the case may be. Her boss had been accommodating, not asking too many questions as to why Hermione wanted to work from home. As most of Hermione's work centered around research at the moment, writing up court documents and such, a transfer to home wouldn't be that difficult.

Hermione had decided that working from home was a better step for everyone. Her explanation had been that she hadn't been feeling very well the past few weeks, which could hardly be denied as everyone in the office had noticed that she seemed tired and unwilling to talk as much as usual.

This wasn't because of the pregnancy but because of the weight of the secret she was carrying. She felt guilty not telling her coworkers and friends. At home, she felt, it would be less stressful, easier to manage her work without worrying about what people might be guessing about her health.

As Hermione packed away a paper weight, the door opened behind her. She didn't hear the creak of the door as she rustled through papers in her file cabinet, trying to decide whether or not they were important enough to take home.

"Hermione?"

A voice startled her and she whipped around. "Harry!" she exclaimed. "You scared me."

"Sorry," Harry apologized, moving into the room. He looked around it, his eyes taking in the messy desk covered in files and the bag next to them. "What are you doing?"

Hermione glanced at the desk and flushed a little. "Oh, I was just taking some things home with me."

"You're going to work at home?" Harry asked, if not a little suspiciously.

"Yes," Hermione said simply, turning away from him. "I think it will be easier, less stress."

"But you've never had that problem before," Harry said, picking up a file but not really looking at it. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not sick." Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes. He seemed to ask this question every time he saw her.

Harry frowned. "Fine, you're not sick. Are you coming to the wedding?"

"Wedding?" Hermione asked, distracted as she glanced between two files.

"Ron and Mandy," Harry said seriously. "It's in January. You got the announcement, right?"

"Oh," Hermione said, feeling a bit ashamed that she had forgotten. "I—yes, of course I'll come."

Harry didn't say anything for a moment. Hermione still had her back to him, rummaging through the cabinet. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to propose."

Hermione stopped rummaging and looked back at Harry. "To Padma?" she asked finally.

"Yes," Harry said, looking like he was gauging her reaction. "What do you think?"

"I think it's wonderful!" she cried. "You two will be very happy, I know it."

Harry broke into a smile. "I'm glad you think so. Hermione, I was thinking," he said suddenly.

_Oh no_, Hermione thought.

"You know Thomas, from the Floo Regulation Panel?"

"Yes," Hermione replied cautiously. She could see where Harry was going with this.

"Well, he's a nice bloke and since you don't have a date to Ron's wedding, maybe you could go with Thom."

Hermione sighed. "It's a nice thought, Harry, but I'd prefer to go alone."

Harry looked disappointed. "Come on, Hermione. I know you haven't exactly dated a lot since Zabini, but there are other guys, nicer guys. I wish you'd stop dwelling on him. I know you liked him a lot, but he was a jerk, you know that. I want to see you happy with someone. Why can't you just try dating someone else?"

Hermione bit her tongue to stop herself telling Harry that he was wrong about Blaise. Instead, she merely shrugged. "I'd prefer to move on in my own time."

Harry frowned again but knew it was no use. He'd been trying for months to get her to forget Zabini.

"Fine," he sighed finally. "I'll let you know when I ask Padma."

"Alright, Harry," Hermione said, turning back to her filing cabinet. "I'll see you later. Good luck."

"Yeah, thanks," Harry murmured as he backed out the door and closed it behind him.

As the door click shut, Hermione sighed and turned around, sinking into her chair. She knew Harry was just trying to help. Placing her hands over her growing stomach, she glanced at the door. All her friends were getting married or engaged and soon they would have children of their own. Here she was, pregnant, not engaged, hardly even in a relationship. The thoughts bore down upon her and she felt depressed.

Placing the last of her files in her bag, she took a last scan around the room. On her desk in the corner was a photograph of her, Ron, and Harry in front of Hogwarts on their last day of school. They were all grinning and waving at the camera stupidly.

Hermione smiled fondly at the picture and picked it up, sliding it into her bag. One last look around the room and she went to the door. She hoisted her heavy bag on her shoulder and sighed, closing the door behind her with a snap.


	19. To Be Discovered

The next few weeks passed slowly for Hermione

The next few weeks passed slowly for Hermione. She was still getting used to living with Blaise. It was unusual to wake up and find him in the sitting room with a cup of tea.

She distracted herself most days with work, sending her owl regularly with work to the office. Kore returned each day with another stack of papers for her. Hermione was content to stay in the office Blaise had offered her and work.

She wouldn't say she'd been avoiding Blaise, but it might have been a good guess. She just didn't know how to act around him. He still hadn't mentioned the kiss and it was beginning to irk her. How could he have forgotten it?

Every time she was on the verge of bringing it up, he would be taken away by some matter of business. She wanted to know what he thought about it and why he'd done it.

She tried not to dwell on it, though. She had enough to worry about with the fact that Isabella had called several times in the last few weeks. Luckily, Blaise had gotten her out quickly before she'd seen anything suspicious.

Hermione had stood behind the door during the last visit and listened as Isabella had talked on about a new girl for Blaise. She'd scowled as his mother had railed on about her looks and her family, her rich status in the Wizarding world.

To her relief, and Blaise's status in her mind, Blaise had merely acknowledged his mother's suggestions with the promise of looking into it. Once Isabella had left, Blaise had opened the door to find Hermione scowling darkly.

She had stalked out from behind the door and into a chair, glaring at the table.

"So I suppose you'll be off to meet Candy or whatever her name was," Hermione had said scathingly.

Blaise had simply rolled his eyes. "She just wants me to get married, you know that. She'll throw any girl she finds at me."

"Maybe you should just take one," Hermione had growled, her eyes flashing.

"I'd rather not," Blaise had replied casually, twirling his wand between his fingers and gazing out the window.

"Why not?" Hermione'd asked waspishly. "Your mother would approve."

"It's a little late for what she may or may not approve of," Blaise had replied. "Don't worry about it, Hermione."

Hermione hadn't been satisfied with the answer but hadn't been able to continue her anger when Blaise had left the room, leaving her alone at the dining room table. She still couldn't figure him out.

OoOoO

November was nearing as the weeks fell away. Hermione's stomach was bigger than ever, and she felt vaguely safe in that she was no longer going to work daily. She'd sent owls to Harry and Ron, telling them that all was well, and they didn't really need to visit her.

Harry hadn't liked the idea, but Hermione had a sneaking suspicion Padma had talked to him and convinced him not to visit. The first chance she got, Hermione was determined to thank Padma for keeping her secret so well and helping her.

So far, she hadn't heard anything of Harry proposing to Padma. She wondered what Harry was planning. She felt kind of detached from her friends at the moment, as if keeping this secret was driving her away from them.

Her guilt at not telling them was taking its toll and with each passing day, she thought more and more about revealing it to them and simply facing the inevitable consequences.

Blaise, on the other hand, felt only slightly guilty at keeping this secret from his mother and friends. He knew Draco could really care less and would only mock him for it and ask why he'd done it. His mother, on the other hand, would not be happy, but at the moment, he wasn't worried how she'd feel.

He'd spent the last few weeks making sure Hermione was happy, attending to her needs, trying to get back in her good books. He was attempting to prove he could take on responsibility. He hadn't gone out half as much as he usually did, which he knew drew suspicions from Pansy.

Pansy was the least of his concerns. His main concern was ensuring that Hermione was seeing the difference in him. Sure, at times he had trouble controlling his aloof behavior, his sarcastic comments. She didn't seem to mind as much, either that or she was ignoring him.

Blaise wasn't sure why she kept looking at him with a discerning eye, as though trying to x-ray him.

One day several weeks after Hermione's move to the Manor, she had gone out to the local store in the closest Muggle village. Blaise was left alone for a while in the Manor.

He lounged in the sitting room for a while, perusing one of the many baby name books that were piled neatly on the coffee table. He and Hermione had decided on Kaiser as the boy's name and it was down to Charlotte or Meredith for a girl.

He wasn't sure which he liked better, just that they needed to decide soon. As he thumbed through another book, the maid entered the room.

"Mr. Zabini," she said. "Ms. Parkinson is here to see you."

Blaise looked up sharply. "Show her in," he said, standing up as soon as she turned away.

He grabbed the books off the coffee table and shoved them under the couch quickly, straightening up as Pansy came into the room. She looked at home amongst his things, with her tight blue dress and sleek sunglasses that she took off and held in her hand.

"Pansy," Blaise drawled. "This is certainly a surprise."

Pansy smiled at Blaise, her eyes roving around the sitting room. She didn't often come to Blaise's house. "I thought I would drop in," she said simply as her eyes made full circle. "You haven't been out lately."

"No," Blaise said casually, dropping into a chair and waiting for Pansy to do the same. "I haven't much felt like it."

"No," Pansy said, watching him. "I guess not what with one thing and another."

"What are you on about, Pansy?" Blaise asked lazily.

"Nothing," Pansy replied, though her tone indicated it was far from nothing. She glanced around the room again and her eyes fell on one of Hermione's scarves that was lying on top of a table just inside the sitting room entrance. "That's an interesting scarf," she commented casually, nodding at it.

Blaise glanced at it, realization gripping his insides. "Thank you," he said coldly.

"And red," Pansy continued, "I didn't know you liked the color red. You always seemed to prefer green."

Blaise stood up and grabbed the scarf from the table. "It's a sad day, Pansy," he said, "when you're interested in what color my scarves are." Then he turned and headed to the entrance way to hang up the scarf in the closet.

While he was gone, Pansy looked around her carefully. The house was much the same as it usually was, neat and tidy. She crossed her legs and went to lean back when the corner of a book caught her eye. It was wedged underneath the couch she was sitting on.

With a careful glance at the door through which Blaise had gone, she leaned down and pulled the book out. A pink and blue cover was adorned with baby rattles and A-B-C blocks. A title emblazoned the front, _Baby Names of the 21st Century_.

Pansy's eyebrows furrowed as she flipped it open to find a list of names followed by their meaning and origin. A noise from the front hall brought her to attention and she hastily pushed the book back under her seat.

Blaise came in from the entrance way and took his seat again in the armchair, facing Pansy. "Was there a reason you came here," he asked, "other than to inspect my scarves?"

"Well, Blaise, I was just worried about you," she said finally, sitting back and crossing her long legs. "You've become a bit of a recluse in the past few months."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Been talking to my mother, have you?"

"Would I?" she asked rhetorically. Blaise didn't answer. "I just want to make sure you're fine."

"Well, I am," Blaise replied. "There was really no need to check."

Pansy shrugged and stood up. "Better to be safe than sorry."

"Thank you for that enlightening diatribe," Blaise drawled.

Pansy ignored the slight. "I must be going," she said, starting towards the front door. Blaise followed. "It's always a pleasure."

"Likewise," Blaise muttered as they reached the door and he opened it for her.

She turned and smiled at him. Leaning forward, she placed a kiss on his cheek. "Come out with us soon," she said and left, Disapparating at the end of the walk.

Blaise remained standing in the doorway for a moment, gazing out at his front yard. Most of the flowers were dead or dying as the cold weather set in. A lingering frost was present on the leaves of a few plants. A bitter wind whipped through the trees surrounding the property and Blaise shivered.

Retreating inside, Blaise went back to the sitting room. He was a bit suspicious about Pansy's visit. She'd never come to ask if he was alright before. It wasn't quite like her. He had an idea that her motives weren't exactly innocent, but he had no idea why she would come to visit.

He hadn't liked all her questions about the scarf either. It was just a scarf. Hermione's scarf, granted, but still just a scarf. She seemed to be getting too suspicious for her own good.

He told himself he had nothing to worry about, though. As long as Isabella didn't find out, they would be fine.

As Blaise sat in the sitting room, watching leaves outside the window tumble over each other in the wind, he thought that he needed to do something for Hermione, something that would truly shock her, show her that he was serious about everything, and maybe even tell her what he'd been thinking for the past month.

He wondered for a while what he could do that might surprise Hermione and in the end, came up with an idea. He hoped it would be enough to prove to Hermione his intentions…

OoOoO

A week later, Hermione came into the house after having taken a long walk. She felt like she needed to clear her mind. The time had gone so quickly since this had all started. One minute it had been April and she was furious with Blaise for the predicament they were in. Now it was November and her due date was only two months away.

The feelings she'd had for Blaise had also changed over the past seven months. At first, she'd been angry and then accepting. As time had progressed, she found herself regaining some of her previous affection for Blaise. She remembered why she had cared about him in the first place. It was a combination of his looks, his intelligence, and the way he didn't seem to care about other's expectations, except his mother, of course, which had never made Hermione happy.

Over the past few week, Hermione had seen Blaise's serious side. She could tell he was really trying to live up to his promise. She was no longer afraid of him running out, which was reassuring.

Hermione took off her scarf and hung it in the coat closet, along with her coat. Looking up, she wondered where everyone was. Usually, Georgiana, the maid, was there to greet her and take her coat. Today, there was no one.

"Blaise?" she called as she went into the sitting room.

"In here," was the response from the formal dining room.

Hermione followed the voice cautiously. "Where's Georgiana?" she asked as she passed through the sitting room to the other side where the double doors led to the dining room.

"I sent her home, and Kristy," he said, referring to the cook.

"Why did y—" Hermione stopped suddenly as she pushed open the doors. Her mouth fell open as she took in the table.

It was set lavishly with a bouquet of red roses in the middle as a centerpiece. The dishes were white with gold trim lacing the edges. The silverware sparkled under the low lighting overhead.

Hermione moved into the room slowly, as if unable to believe her eyes.

"Did you do this?" she asked, amazed.

Blaise walked over to her, producing a white rose from behind his back and handing it to her, leaning in and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Good evening, Hermione," he said when he stepped back. He ushered her to a seat at the table and waved his wand.

Immediately, food appeared on the table in front of them. Hermione was impressed as all her favorite dishes appeared. She looked at Blaise, who'd taken the seat next to her.

"Did you make this?"

"Down to the last tart."

"I didn't know you could cook," she said incredulously.

"There are a lot of things you don't know," he said simply, grabbing her napkin and handing it to her. She took it, feeling dazed.

Blaise had never done anything like this before. Usually, he had the cook make everything. Hermione occasionally wandered into the kitchen to make things herself. She felt bad having the chef make all her meals.

She was surprised throughout the meal as Blaise continued to impress her with the fact that he could actually cook and it was good, quite nearly as good as Padma's cooking. She could do nothing but be amazed at what she'd never known about him.

Near the end of the meal, Blaise brought out a bottle of sparkling cider, pouring it into two champagne glasses and handing one to Hermione.

"To us," he said, raising his glass. "For making it this far without one Unforgivable."

Hermione smiled and toasted, taking a sip of the bubbling cider. She felt like the evening was turning out far better than she could have expected.

"Hermione," Blaise said, setting down his glass and looking at her seriously.

"Yes?" she asked, taking her napkin off lap and turning to face him.

"There's something I want to tell you," he said, raising a hand to her cheek softly.

Hermione's eyes were searching his and her heart was beating faster. She could feel the pulse of it in her chest as she waited.

"Hermione," he said, taking a breath. "I—"

"Blaise!"

Hermione jerked back as a familiar voice carried through the house. She scrambled out of her chair as the voice sounded again, louder and angrier.

"Blaise!"

Blaise was frozen in his chair, staring at the double doors through which the voice was coming.

"Oh no," was all he said before the doors burst open to reveal Isabella Zabini standing behind them.


	20. True Form

Blaise regained his composure almost seconds after the doors opened. He stood up and, with a glance at Hermione, who was standing off to the side looking worried, approached his mother.

"Mother," he said, attempting graciousness, while really wondering why the hell she'd had to pick that moment to intrude on his life. "It's nice to see you."

"Oh Blaise," Isabella said in a dark voice, glaring at him and Hermione. "What is going on here?"

Hermione said nothing, clearly afraid to. Isabella could be a formidable opponent, especially when she was mad.

Blaise stepped forward, appearing calm and nonchalant. "I'm having dinner," he said simply.

Isabella's eyes narrowed and she drew herself up to her full height, tossing her dark hair back, her gold earrings glittering in the low light. "I see that, darling," she said coldly. "Might I ask why I find you here with this," she seemed to be searching for the right word to describe Hermione, "_woman_?"

Blaise looked at Hermione, who was now scowling slightly.

Isabella continued. "I heard that you were seeing someone, but, Blaise, I had no idea the extent… She's pregnant! Is this your doing?" she demanded.

"Excuse me," Hermione interrupted angrily. "But I have a name and you know what it is, Mrs. Zabini."

Isabella ignored her and looked at Blaise for the answer. "Blaise Michel Zabini, tell me why this girl is pregnant and in your dining room!"

Blaise sighed and moved back a step. He knew his mother wasn't going to accept this easily.

"Hermione is here because I asked her to move in," he said finally.

"When?" Isabella asked. "Why was I not informed of this? How far along is she? How could you do this to the family, Blaise?! You know what I've gone through for you, for us. And this is how you repay me?"

Hermione was now glaring at Isabella as she talked, ready to argue. Blaise, however, jumped in.

"Repay you?" he asked. "Mother, this wasn't planned. It was an accident, but we've both accepted it."

"You hid it from me," Isabella said, her eyes flashing. "You disgraced the Zabini name by taking up with this girl in the first place!"

"Her name is Hermione," Blaise said coldly, moving over to her. "And I don't think you should really talk about disgracing the family name."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Isabella asked in quiet anger.

"Nothing," Blaise replied scornfully.

Isabella stared at her son and then Hermione, her eyes dropping down to her rounded stomach. "Of all the girls you've ever dated, darling," she said, "you had to pick her? She does nothing to offset your looks or charm."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in anger as she stared at Isabella. "You horrible woman!" she exclaimed.

Isabella turned a distasteful eye on Hermione. "Don't be silly, dear, Blaise could have his pick of any girl. I suppose you did this on purpose to rope him in, didn't you?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond furiously but Blaise stepped in to stop the slaughter.

"Mother, it was my fault," he said. "But it's all in the past. What matters now is that it's happened and we've decided to keep the child."

Isabella had turned away from Hermione with one last unpleasant look and was now staring at Blaise. "If you continue to associate with this tragedy, I don't know what I'm going to do, Blaise. You know how important it is to keep up appearances. You must disassociate yourself with Ms. Granger. We cannot have a child out of wedlock hampering our family name."

Blaise just stared at his mother for a second. He looked at Hermione, who was seething beside him, glaring at Isabella. He could practically see the unpleasant thoughts running through her mind and what she would like to do to his mother.

"Mother, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," he said finally. "You can't barge, uninvited, into my house and insult Hermione."

Hermione now looked at him, as though surprised. She watched as Isabella seemed to digest what he said and flare with anger.

"Fine," she said shortly. "I'll go. I wouldn't want to hinder any plans you may have made without me. But remember, Blaise," she said as she turned to leave the room, "a man is only as good as the woman on his arm."

Then she turned haughtily and swept from the room. Blaise waited until he heard the front door close with a loud snap before sinking down into the closest chair.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath. He shook his head as he looked up, seeing the beautifully set table and remembering the original reason for the evening. It was all ruined now, thanks to his mother.

Hermione stood in the corner, shocked into silence by all that had just happened. She had never expected Isabella to barge in. Most of it had made her angry, hearing herself be insulted by a woman twice her age with nothing to show for it except a career of marrying older, rich men.

Isabella's last words, however, had given Hermione a twist in her stomach. She didn't know what Blaise would do, and that worried her. She'd been worried about this from the start. Would he leave her now to go after his mother and make things right with her? Would he go back on his promise?

She remained standing as Blaise sat at the table, staring at it. She just kept thinking about what Isabella had said and resisting the urge to go after her herself and show her just how talented she could be.

Instead, she mastered the feeling, and feeling more tired than she had in a while, turned to Blaise.

"Good night," she said quietly. She didn't wait for him to respond, merely turned and left for her bedroom to think about what she had to do now.

Blaise saw her walk out and twinge in his chest told him he should follow her and explain what he was thinking, but instead, he let her go while he remained in the dining room.

OoOoO

The next day, neither Blaise nor Hermione brought up the subject of Isabella and her surprise visit. Hermione drank her tea in silence, her eyes on the butter dish that sat on the table.

She'd spent much of the night awake, thinking about what might happen. She knew Isabella would not tell anyone for fear of further disgracing the family. Hermione had a suspicion that Isabella had not finished attempting to break Blaise's attachment to her either.

She was not interested in discussing the matter with Blaise, as she knew it could not end well. Knowing his opinion on the subject would not help hers, she determined.

Several days passed in which she and Blaise spent time in awkward silence, usually one leaving the room shortly after, unable to bear it.

Blaise knew he should bring up the subject of his mother and her accusations and suggestions.

There was something he hadn't told Hermione. Isabella had not, in fact, given up her quest. She had visited him at work the day before with more reasons as to why Hermione was not worthy. He'd listened to her calmly, but not accepting anything she said.

Isabella had left in anger once again when Blaise had rebuffed her attempts to get him to leave Hermione alone with the child. It had taken a while, nearly 25 years, but Blaise had finally learned that his mother had far too much influence on his life. He was ready to take control and the first thing was to tell his mother that it was his own decision.

Isabella hadn't been pleased and left angrily. Blaise wasn't really worried. She had said nothing about disowning him, even if she was furious about his choice. He was confident that she would come around in time, even if it didn't seem like it.

He wasn't so sure Hermione would come around. He feared that she had taken his mother's words to heart and that she was considering cutting him loose.

Less than a week after Isabella's fateful visit, Blaise made the suggestion that they go out and do some shopping in preparation for the baby.

Hermione had agreed, if not a little stiffly. Facing several hours in the company of Blaise was not appealing when she was trying to avoid the subject of Isabella.

So, wearing a heavy sweater and walking cautiously with Blaise, Hermione accompanied him to a rather large children's store in the London downtown. She shielded her face as they passed the Leaky Cauldron on the way to the store.

They entered and Hermione declined the sales girl's offer to take her coat. She and Blaise headed for the back of the store, away from the front windows.

Gazing at the selection of cribs, neither spoke for a while. Hermione ran her hands over the edge of a pretty mahogany crib, wondering if they would ever be able to work anything out.

"Hermione," Blaise said quietly, causing her to jump.

"Yes?" she asked, turning from the crib to another cheap-looking white crib.

"I've been thinking," he said and Hermione held her breath for a second, thinking he was about to bring up the dinner. "The baby's room, there's a room just off the master bedroom. It's more of a large closet, but if you like it, we could make that the baby's room."

"Oh," Hermione said, feeling relieved. "Yes, that sounds fine."

She turned back to the same mahogany crib, examining the carvings in the wood. It was a floral theme of flowers and leaves trailing down it. "What do you think of this one?"

"Rich," he said, running a hand over the edge. He glanced at Hermione. He knew she was avoiding the subject he wanted to talk about. "Hermione," he said again, and she turned from him, heading towards the decorations for children's rooms.

He followed, determined to talk to her about what had happened. "About the other night…"

"I don't want to talk about it," she said sharply, lowering her voice. She glanced around. There was no one close to them. The only other couple she saw was across the store.

"We have to talk about it," Blaise pressed, not looking at the mobiles Hermione was staring at determinedly.

"No, we don't," Hermione said. "I heard what your mother said. She thinks I'm a tramp, using this child as a way to ensnare you and ruin your future."

"But you haven't heard what I say," Blaise said, walking around her as she turned away from him. "Hermione, listen to me. You should know well enough by now that I don't listen to my mother."

Hermione stopped walking away from him and let out a derisive laugh. "Please, Blaise," she said scornfully. "You are your mother's son. Your whole life you've listened to her. When have you had an original thought?"

Blaise's eyes narrowed. "Maybe when I dated you?" he asked. "She didn't approve but I did it anyway."

"And then you broke up with me," Hermione hissed, glancing around her again. She felt it was imprudent to be arguing in the middle of a store. Turning sharply, she moved away to look at lamps with childish designs on them.

"Well, I came back didn't I?"

"Only for sex," Hermione answered, trying to move her lips as little as possible.

"That wasn't the only reason," Blaise replied before he could stop himself.

Hermione glanced at him curiously. She shook her head, though, and looked away. "It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is if you are going to listen to her now." She paused, glaring at him. "Are you?"

Blaise sighed. "No," he said sincerely. "She's just upset."

"Oh yes," Hermione said sarcastically. "I'm sure Isabella Zabini is just upset that Hermione Granger, the poor Muggleborn, has seduced her perfect son."

"It's not to do with blood," Blaise said. "She just wanted me to marry some rich bimbo. My mother's not the least obvious when it comes to motives. Why do you think she has so many husbands?"

"Because she's famously beautiful?" Hermione offered darkly, thinking of Isabella's shining dark hair and vivid blue eyes, so like her son's, her slim figure and perfect teeth.

"She just wanted me to be happy."

"Were you?" Hermione asked, ceasing to pretend she was interested in the rattles.

"To a degree." Blaise shrugged. "As happy as I could be with no real father. Now, Hermione, we're getting off topic. I just wanted to tell you that she won't scare me off. I'm going to stay and help with the baby."

Hermione looked at him for a second, as though sizing him up. Finally, she sighed, her eyes softening. "Alright, I believe you."

She tensed slightly as he gave her a light hug. When he pulled back, he glanced up at the rattles. "These things are ugly," he commented. "Why don't we try Owl order?"

"Sounds good," Hermione said, relieved to be leaving the store. Together, they left the store, its bell tinkling behind them.

They didn't see, as they turned the corner, a woman with elaborately set curls and a crocodile handbag stick her head out the door of the shop they had just left.

The woman's mouth curled into an evil smile as her long red nails unclasped her handbag, removing a Quick-Quote Quill.


	21. Things Revealed

"What I don't understand is how she found out," Blaise said one cold afternoon. He and Hermione were in the sitting room. Hermione was reading another book about pregnancy and Blaise was gazing out the window thoughtfully. Outside, snow had begun to fall lightly, dusting all the trees and surrounding grounds in a white powder.

"Who?" Hermione asked, not looking up from her book.

"My mother."

She looked up now, her expression thoughtful. "I don't know. You haven't told anyone, have you?"

At this, Blaise paused, glancing away from her.

"Have you?" she repeated, a little more suspiciously.

"Well, we told the Healer, obviously," Blaise said, still keeping his eyes fixed on a tree outside in which a squirrel was hiding on a branch. "And I may have told Vanessa."

Hermione looked confused. "You mean the girl you were seeing, the one you said was different than…" She trailed away. She'd tried not to think about that girl, the one Blaise had seemed to like so much.

Blaise saw her train of thought and was quick to intervene. "Hermione, I'm not seeing Vanessa. I was wrong about her. She was just like the others, but before I figured that out, I did tell her."

"You think she told?" Hermione asked, her tone frosty. She still didn't like the idea of that girl, whether or not Blaise had liked her.

"No, I don't," he said. "There's also Pansy."

"You told Pansy?!" Hermione exclaimed.

"No," he said quickly. "But she may have figured it out. She came over the other day and was acting oddly suspicious. She asked me about your red scarf and then left rather quickly. She also wants to know why I don't go out with them as often now."

"You think Pansy would have told your mother if she'd known?"

"Definitely," Blaise replied. "Pansy was always close with my mother. They share all sorts of secrets."

"But she wouldn't tell anyone else, right?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"No," Blaise said slowly. "My mother wouldn't allow it."

"Good," Hermione said, feeling relieved. It was bad enough that Isabella and Pansy knew. If they told anyone else, it couldn't possibly have a good outcome.

"Want to go for a walk?" Blaise asked suddenly.

Hermione put down her book again and glanced out the window. It was still snowing lightly and the light was barely shining through breaks in the clouds.

"It's snowing," she said.

"First snow of the season," Blaise replied, standing up. "Come on, Hermione, live a little."

Hermione scowled at being told to live a little, but agreed that the first snow always had some magical quality to it. In the end, she stood up, with a little help from Blaise. It was getting more and more difficult to stand with her stomach growing as it was. She headed for her room to grab another coat and her shoes.

When she got back out to the front hall, she found Blaise already wearing his coat and scarf. He handed her her red scarf, the one with gold trimming. Wrapping it tightly around her neck, she braced herself as Blaise opened the door.

To her surprise, there was little wind. The snow simply drifted down from the clouds, landing softly on the ground. She walked out behind Blaise, looking up into the sky and feeling the cold drops land on her face.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the cold, crisp winter air. She had always liked winter, especially when she had been younger. Waking up to the fresh snow outside her window had always been great fun. Her parents always had to restrain her from running out in her dressing gown.

Living in the city, she hadn't gotten to experience it as much. As she walked beside Blaise down the lane that wound around the edge of his property, she was reminded of how much she missed living in a place where she could go out and make a snowman.

They walked in the peaceful silence of the snow, each taking time to reflect. Hermione was gazing around at the snow-covered trees when she felt Blaise's arm brush against hers. She glanced up at him, but he was staring off to the other side, looking lost in thought.

They had gone about three-quarters around the property when Blaise stopped walking, looking down at a frozen pond at the bottom of a slope. Hermione came beside him and also gazed down at the pond. A few birds were flittering in and out of the trees beside it.

"Hermione?" Blaise asked suddenly.

"Yes, Blaise?" Hermione responded, taking her eyes from the pond and looking at him. Blaise was watching her.

"Are you happy?"

She looked at him for a moment, noticing the snow flakes that fell into his dark hair. She reached up and brushed the flakes away, finally giving him a warm smile. "Yeah, I think I am."

For a moment it felt as though they had gone back in time to when they'd first been dating and there had been no problems. They stared at each other for a few seconds and then, slowly, Blaise leaned forward and kissed her.

His lips were warm against hers and her eyes drifted closed. There was nothing demanding in the kiss, no question that needed answering. It was just a kiss they shared under the fluttering snow.

After a moment, Blaise pulled back and Hermione opened her eyes. He didn't say anything, but turned and offered his hand. She paused a second before slipping hers in it and walking beside him as they made their way back to the Manor.

OoOoO

The next few days were quiet and peaceful in Zabini Manor. Hermione and Blaise were getting along better than they ever had, even with Hermione's mood flashes. She could be perfectly content one minute and annoyed the next. Sometimes, she felt bad for making Blaise put up with it, but she couldn't control it.

One morning, Hermione rose, feeling happy and upbeat. She came out to the sitting room, glancing out the window where snow was piled high. Continuing to the dining room, she found Blaise already there, a cup of coffee in his hands.

He greeted her as normal as she took her seat and poured herself a cup of pumpkin juice. She grabbed the _Daily Prophet_ and shook it open, perusing the front page. She didn't see anything too much interesting and so settled to reading about the new memorial to Dumbledore they were going to erect.

She was about halfway through the article when there was a crack on the window. Lowering the paper, she looked around for the cause of the sound.

Blaise was already out of his seat and at the window, pushing it open. An eagle owl soared in, along with a gust of freezing wind, and landed on the table. A red letter was tied to its leg. Without waiting for Blaise or Hermione, the owl reached down and pulled the letter untied with its beak, then soared out the window.

Hermione gave Blaise a worried glance and backed away from the table where the Howler was sitting. The edges were already beginning to smoke.

Neither made any moves to open it, not that it mattered since seconds later, the envelope exploded in a cascade of words.

"…TELL THE WHOLE WIZARDING WORLD!" the letter yelled and Hermione recognized Isabella's voice. "THE ZABINI NAME DISGRACED! BLAISE, I HAD HOPED YOU WERE SMARTER THAN TELLING A REPORTER ABOUT YOUR MISTAKE!" Hermione scowled now at the word mistake, but was more interested in what she meant by reporter. "NOW IT WILL BE ALL OVER AND EVERYONE WILL KNOW! I DON'T KNOW WHAT WE'LL DO! I AM VERY DISAPPOINTED THAT YOU WOULD TREAT THIS WITH SUCH CASUAL DISREGARD! I WILL NOT BE IN TOUCH WITH YOU AND THAT WOMAN UNTIL THINGS ARE SETTLED. GOOD DAY!"

The letter crumpled on the table and burst into flames, curling into grey ash in minutes. Hermione was left staring at it, then looking at Blaise.

"What was that talking about?" she asked carefully. She hadn't liked the sound of it. "You don't think someone found out and told the press?"

"The _Prophet_ wouldn't print it," Blaise said quickly. "Is it in there?"

Hermione grabbed the _Prophet_ again and scanned the entire thing. "No, there's nothing."

Blaise looked puzzled as he watched the smoking pile of ash now in the middle of the breakfast table. He glanced up sharply as another owl swooped in the open window, missing the table and slamming headfirst into the wall.

Hermione ran to retrieve it, finding that it was Errol, the Weasley's old owl. She set the old bird on the table and untied the scroll tied to its leg.

"Who's it from?" Blaise asked as Hermione unrolled it.

"Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said slowly, skipping to the signature. "'Dear Hermione,'" she read. "'I've just heard and I have to say that you shouldn't have kept the relationship hidden, especially if you're expecting.'" She paused and looked up at Blaise, aghast. "How does she know?"

"Keep reading," he encouraged her.

"'I've sent the article to Ron. I'm sure he'd like to know, if you haven't told him already. The article in _Witch Weekly_ wasn't the most flattering, but I know you better than they do. Why you had to keep it a secret, I don't know. Possibly because Mr. Zabini is a less than desirable character, but, dear, we still love you and you're welcome at the Burrow anytime should it not work out.'"

Hermione stared at the letter, her mouth slightly open and her eyes narrowed angrily.

"Less than desirable?" Blaise repeated, coming over to Hermione and reading the letter for himself. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"That's not important," Hermione said. "I want to see that copy of _Witch Weekly_."

"Easily remedied," Blaise said. He whistled and his owl swooped onto his arm. "Get me a copy of Witch Weekly," he told the bird and it was gone in a second.

Hermione sank into her seat, still rereading the letter from Mrs. Weasley. It sounded to her as though she knew… everything. This, coupled with the Howler from Isabella, led Hermione to believe that the press had found out, but how?

They sat several minutes in silence, almost a half an hour until the return of Blaise's owl, a copy of the most recent _Witch Weekly_ in its claws. Hermione snatched it up as soon as the bird dropped it on her plate.

She unfurled it and hastily flipped through the pages until she found an article headed with a picture of her and Blaise hugging in a store. Her eyebrows came together as she began to read.

**Blaise Zabini: The World's Playboy or Loving Father?**  
_  
Blaise Zabini; The notorious bachelor is best known for his womanizing ways and rugged good-looks, but is this the real Blaise that everyone knows or is there another side to this spicy Italian entrée? A recent outing into Muggle London questions that fact precisely, writes Rita Skeeter, who also sports her own notorious reputation for puncturing inflated egos with her quill._Prophet_ reporter than meets the eye._

While on a simple shopping jaunt to Muggle London, this reporter was fortunate enough to come upon the handsome Mr. Zabini, easily spotted by his dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Surprised to see Mr. Zabini out in the Muggle world, I was soon to learn that there was more to this

The face Mr. Zabini presents to the wizarding world is one of quiet intelligence, having punctured many inflated egos of his own as a Daily Prophet reporter. Most would expect the handsome beau to choose a girl with the same status as himself. It is well-known fact that Mr. Zabini is no slouch when it comes to dating. Many girls can claim to have been in the famed Zabini Manor with just a glimpse of the sitting room.

It seems, however, that Mr. Zabini is not satisfied with those girls of his stature. A few years back, he caused quite a scandal by dating Hermione Granger, known for her participation in the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Their relationship, though relatively short-lived, caused quite a to-do at the time. Common knowledge tells us his mother, the exceedingly beautiful Isabella Zabini, was not happy with the match and when it ended merely five months after beginning, there could be no doubt as to why.

More than a year has passed since then but it seems Mr. Zabini did not give up his pursuit of Ms. Granger. This reporter witnessed first hand the couple entering a shop in Muggle London not a week ago.

Together, the couple was spotted in a store selling mainly baby items, and now this reporter can exclusively reveal that Hermione Granger is with child, expecting in the coming months by the looks of things.

This begs the question of Mr. Zabini's true character.

Hermione stopped there. The rest of the article went into examining whether or not Blaise was father material, which Hermione had no interest in reading. She looked up at him, a panicked look on her face.

"She followed us," she said finally.

"What are you talking about?" Blaise asked. Hermione handed over the paper and stared at her empty plate while Blaise read the article.

When he finished, the magazine fell from his hands onto the table. He stared at the cover as it flipped shut on its own accord. He didn't say anything for a moment, only ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

Hermione waited for him to say something, but her mind was also thinking of Mrs. Weasley's letter that said she had sent the article to Ron.

"She sent it to Ron," she whispered.

"What?" Blaise asked, looking up from his hands.

"Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, feeling panic in her stomach. "She sent that article to Ron, and he'll tell Harry and then he'll ask Padma and she'll have to tell him. Oh no!"

She buried her face in her hands at the thought of what was going to happen. She looked up at Blaise, as though pleading for him to say something reassuring.

"It'll be fine," he said, looking up from the magazine. "Weasley won't even know what it means."

Hermione frowned at him and rolled her eyes at his slight on Ron. She sighed. "He will, and Harry definitely will. How will I explain this to them?"

"If you hadn't kept it from them in the first place, you wouldn't have to," Blaise said simply.

Hermione's mouth fell open, feeling indignant. "You agreed to this in the first place!"

"I know, I know," Blaise said. "I was just kidding."

Hermione merely grumbled to herself. She wasn't impressed with his joking at a time like this. She had more important things to worry about.

As if someone was listening to her thoughts, at that moment, there was another whooshing sound and Hermione looked up to find Hedwig on the table, a red letter attached to her leg.

She hooted dolefully at Hermione while Hermione grimaced. Carefully, she reached forward and untied the Howler. Hedwig flew off and landed on top of a cabinet in the corner.

The Howler began to smoke and Hermione decided to save herself the agony and slit a finger under the lid.

"HERMIONE! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? YOU'RE NOT AT YOUR FLAT!"

That was all that was in the Howler. It burst into flames and Hermione winced at the voice that exploded out of it. She looked at Blaise, who appeared nonplussed.

Sighing, Hermione beckoned to Hedwig, who fluttered down onto the table. She scribbled a note, to the degree of not to come. She sent Hedwig away, knowing even that couldn't possibly keep them away.

Attempting to continue her breakfast, she buttered a piece of toast while Blaise did the same.

It couldn't have been ten minutes before there was a hammering sound on the door and Hermione resigned herself to the worst as she heard Georgiana answer and the sounds of two men practically breaking down the door.


	22. A Problem Child

*

"Where is he?!" a voice exploded from the entrance hall.

Hermione heard Georgiana attempting to stop the two men that were pushing their way in.

"Stay here," she told Blaise and got up from the table, heading into the sitting room.

She stood near the couch and waited. There were sounds of muffled curses before she saw Harry and Ron emerge from the front hall, Georgiana trailing after them, looking flustered.

"Ms. Granger," she said pleadingly, "they won't listen—"

"Hermione!" Ron interrupted the maid as he came to a sudden stop, so sudden that Harry nearly ran into him. He was staring at her, his eyes immediately drawn to her stomach, that was for once not hidden by long coats and overlarge sweaters.

Harry stared at Hermione, then his eyes narrowed as he turned to sweep the room, searching for Blaise, Hermione knew.

Ron continued to stare at Hermione as she stood there. Finally, she crossed her arms over her chest, feeling self-conscious. "Yes, Ron?"

"Hermione, it— you—you're…" He was gesturing wildly at her stomach and was left to mouth wordlessly. Beside him, even Harry didn't appear to know what to say.

"What, Ron?" Hermione asked, daring him to say something idiotic.

"Pregnant!" he exclaimed finally and Harry nodded his head fervently.

Hermione grimaced. "Yes," she admitted.

"When did this happen?!" Ron asked.

Hermione stared at him for a moment. Sometimes, he could be so dense. "About seven and a half months ago," she said coolly.

"But you didn't tell us," Harry said, finally speaking. He appeared almost hurt.

It hurt Hermione to see Harry looking so betrayed. She'd been afraid this might happen. She made a movement as though meaning to move closer, but stayed where she was. "I was afraid of what you would think," she said, her eyes pleading with him.

Harry shook his head, but Ron didn't seem to be listening.

"Where is he?" he demanded. "Where is the bastard? I told you he was bad news, Hermione!"

"Ron," Hermione said, reluctantly tearing her eyes from Harry, who had fallen silent. "I hope you didn't come here intending to hurt him."

"And why not?" Ron asked, glaring around the room like Blaise might be hiding behind a chair.

"Because you don't know the whole story," she said exasperatedly.

"I don't need it!" Ron exclaimed. "All I need is my wand and him, so where the hell is he?!"

Hermione groaned to herself. She had known this would happen. "He's not he—" she started to say, but at that moment, the doors to the dining room swung open and Blaise strode out. Hermione glared at him.

"Weasley, Potter," Blaise said casually, coming next to Hermione.

Both Ron and Harry's eyes narrowed. Hermione sent Blaise a warning look. Blaise had his wand in his hand, but it was held at his side loosely.

"You bastard," Ron growled. "How could you do this to Hermione?"

"She wasn't exactly unwilling," Blaise said, giving Ron a disdainful look.

"Blaise!" Hermione hissed. She turned to Ron. "That's not true."

"So you forced her to?" Ron demanded. "I knew it! Harry, he's evil."

Harry's gaze was on Blaise, his expression full of dislike. Ron had his wand gripped tightly in his hand and was glaring at Blaise.

"No," Hermione said quickly, pushing Blaise's wand out of the way as he went to raise it. "That's not what I meant."

"Well, what did you mean, Hermione?" Harry asked, still glaring at Blaise. "I thought you were done with him. I knew he was hanging around, but not to this extent! You're pregnant with his child. Do you deny it?" His gaze flickered to Hermione for a second. She appeared flustered.

"Well, no, but—"

"Then you're still involved. Why didn't you tell us?"

"I…" Hermione said, glancing at Blaise, who was also waiting for the answer. "I knew you didn't like him, and I didn't either at the time so I thought if I told you, this would happen!"

"You were right," Ron said angrily, his wand still on Blaise. "Come on, Hermione, let me have a go at him. He's to blame, right?"

"Oh yes, Weasley, it only takes one person to make a child, or haven't you learned about the birds and the bees yet?" Blaise drawled sarcastically.

Hermione closed her eyes for a second. Blaise was not helping the situation. She could see Ron's face growing redder the longer he stood glaring at Blaise.

"That's it!" Ron yelled. "I'm gonna kill him, I will!"

"Ron, you can't!" Hermione said, as he lunged forward but, luckily, Harry grabbed onto the back of his robes.

"Harry, let go!" Ron shouted, struggling against Harry, who appeared to be reconsidering his decision to stop Ron.

"Stop," Hermione said, glancing at Blaise, who merely looked annoyed. "You can't kill him."

"Why not?!" Ron yelled. "Harry! Stop it!" He tugged the edge of his robe and got a few inches loose as Harry's grip loosened.

"Be-because," Hermione stuttered.

"Come on, Hermione! I will! It'll be so much easier without him! You can live with my mum. She'll take care of you!"

"I don't want to live with your mum," Hermione said, frustrated. She could tell Harry was nearly on the verge of letting Ron go and she wasn't positive Blaise could win against Harry and Ron.

"Well, why can't I kill him?" Ron demanded. "Tell me why!"

"I—" Hermione said, looking from Ron to Blaise to Harry. She felt trapped. They wanted an answer. "Be-because…"

"Why?!" Ron yelled, ripping his robes finally from Harry's slackened grip and Harry barely realized before seizing the edge again.

"Be-because I love him!"

A ringing silence followed Hermione's words. Ron stopped struggling, not even realizing that Harry had dropped the robes and was staring at Hermione.

Even Blaise was staring at her. His wand had dropped to his side and it fell with a clatter to the floor.

"I'm sorry," Ron said after a moment. "I think I blacked out for a second. What did you say?"

Hermione was turning a bright shade of red as she avoided everyone eye. Realizing just how true her statement was, she didn't want to see their reactions. Harry's would be one of disbelief and disappointment, Ron's of anger and Blaise… she didn't even know what he would say.

"Hermione," she heard Blaise's voice and glanced up. "Are you serious?"

She was beginning to feel embarrassed with everyone looking at her. Blaise was staring at her, a jumble of expressions on his face. "Yes," she mumbled quietly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

Her rambling apology was cut off as Blaise moved swiftly toward her and pulled her into a hard kiss. She heard Ron's groan but wasn't paying attention. She could only feel Blaise's arms around her and his lips on hers.

"I don't want to see that," Ron moaned, turning away from the sight. Harry was watching with a curious expression.

Blaise and Hermione broke apart after a few seconds. Staring up into his eyes, Hermione searched his face. "What does that mean?" she whispered.

"Hermione," Blaise said, "I love you too." Hermione broke into a smile as he kissed her again. "I was an idiot," he continued.

"Got that right," Ron muttered loudly.

Blaise ignored him. "I listened to my mother and broke up with you because I thought you'd be better off. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. I should have listened to myself, not her. That's why I didn't stop coming back."

Hermione looked at him for a second then kissed him on the cheek. "It's okay."

"No, it bloody well is not!" Ron exclaimed and Hermione and Blaise finally looked at him. "Hermione, how can you love him? He's an evil Slytherin prat! When you broke up you, you cried for months!"

"Ron!" Hermione hissed.

"Months?" Blaise asked.

"Now you're just gonna take him back like nothing changed?"

"Things have changed," Hermione said. "For one, I'm pregnant and I'm pretty sure that's not going to change, not for another two months at least."

Ron opened his mouth to argue more, but Harry interrupted. "Ron, she made her decision. Let's go."

Hermione watched helplessly as Harry turned and started to walk back to the front door. After a long glare at Blaise, Ron stormed after him.

"Harry!" she called, hurrying after him. She didn't want him to leave angry with her. She caught up to him at the door. Ron had already left. "Harry, please, don't be angry. I'm sorry for not telling you."

She waited anxiously as he stood at the door, hovering between leaving and staying. Snow was blowing through the open door.

He was silent for an inordinately long period of time. "You could have told me," he said finally.

"I was worried," she said honestly. "I didn't want you to be disappointed."

"I'm not disappointed," Harry sighed. "I just wish you could have told me, not Rita Skeeter."

Hermione looked ashamed and Harry sighed again. "Listen, don't worry. Now we all know. I'll tell Padma."

"Uh," Hermione said. "Actually, Padma knows."

"She does?" Harry asked. "No wonder she's been acting funny when I ask about you."

Hermione laughed slightly and watched Harry apprehensively. "So you're not mad?"

Harry paused. "No," he said finally. "Just don't keep anymore secrets."

"I won't," she agreed quickly. "I promise."

Harry smiled and opened the door wider. "Wish me luck," he said as he stepped out.

"Why?" Hermione said, stepping in the doorway.

"I'm asking Padma tonight," Harry said with a grin, then he Disapparated from the porch.

Hermione closed the door, a smile on her face, and returned slowly to the sitting room where Blaise had sat down on the couch. She joined him, secretly celebrating when he slid his arm around her shoulders.

"I take it he's not as upset as Weasley?"

"Not quite," she replied.

"Well, it's all in the open now."

"Actually, my parents still don't know," Hermione said slowly. At the look from Blaise, she added. "But I'll tell them soon, promise."

He nodded his head and pulled her closer. Together, they settled in to watch the snow flutter past the window. Hermione felt as though things were finally coming together.

OoOoO

True to her word, Hermione went to her parent's house the next week. She had called ahead and sort of invited herself to afternoon tea. So, bundled in a scarf and coat, she took a taxi to their house, late in the month of November.

Her mother and father greeted her at the door warmly. She was sure the atmosphere would soon become less warm as she told them what she had to.

"Hermione," her mother said, "let me take your coat."

"Oh, um, alright," Hermione said awkwardly, turning around and taking it off. She handed it to her mother, who put it in a closet, not noticing that her husband was staring at their daughter.

When she turned around, she caught sight of John, staring at Hermione.

"John, what are you—" She turned then and caught sight of what he was looking at. "Hermione," she breathed. "Are you…?"

"There's something I need to tell you," she said evasively, leading the way into the sitting room. Her parents trailed behind her, hastily whispering to each other.

"Who did this?" her dad asked immediately once they reached the other room.

"Now, dad," Hermione said slowly. "You should know that everything is under control. All the details have been worked out and there's nothing to worry about. I'm fine."

"Who?" her father persisted.

She didn't say anything for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to phrase it. Finally, deciding there was no good way, she sighed and looked up. "Blaise."

Her parents were silent and she could see them trying to remember who he was.

"The man we met almost two years ago?" her mother finally asked.

"Yes."

"The bloke who broke up with you?" her dad asked.

"Yes."

"But then how…" her father said, and she could see him trying to work it out.

"It's not important," she said quickly. "What matters is that he and I have worked things out. We're back together now." She paused and waited for their reactions, biting her lip.

Both of them looked flabbergasted. She knew it wasn't what they had expected or wanted for their daughter, the perfect student, successful Ministry worker.

"Mum," she said after several minutes of silence. "Please say something."

Her mother appeared to be coming out of a trance as she looked at her daughter. "Hermione, I… Well, I didn't expect this when you said you wanted to come over today." She gave her an imploring look. "Why didn't you tell us earlier?"

Hermione looked away, feeling ashamed. She supposed she ought to have known that people would be more accepting. They loved her, after all.

"I just didn't want you to think I was irresponsible," she said quietly. "I didn't want you to be disappointed."

"He's taken responsibility?" her father asked suddenly. "This Blaise character?"

Hermione was surprised by this question. "Yes, he has."

"Are you getting married?"

"We haven't discussed it," she said slowly. "Dad, we're not worried about that yet. We're going to start with the baby and work on it. It's all going to be fine."

Her father said nothing and her mother stepped in. "Hermione, I can't say I'm happy but you know I've always wanted grandchildren."

Hermione was surprised when she hugged her. "I know you didn't want them this way, but Blaise and I are finally happy. We figured it out."

"Well, that's good," Mrs. Granger said, sniffing. "Because if he wasn't treating you well, I'd have to come show him how you deserve to be treated.

Hermione laughed. "I don't think it'd do much good. He can do magic, you see."

"Yes, well, I'm still your mother, and he should fear that."

"He will," Hermione said, feeling much better than she had in a long time.

*


	23. Once Upon a Fairy Tale

Hermione stood at the doorway of the small room off the master bedroom, gazing in. On the outside wall, under the window piled with snow, was a beautiful mahogany crib with an enchanted mobile hung over it. The figures of Hogwarts castle and snow-covered trees danced around it. When spring came, the trees would become light and green.

The room had been painted a soft yellow with blue trim around the singular window. Hermione and Blaise had spent the past few weeks decorating and finishing the preparations for the baby.

Hermione had moved her things into the master bedroom with Blaise and felt quite content there. They had bought quite a few things and Hermione hadn't been sure the small room would hold them. It had, though. Hermione had a suspicion that Blaise had performed a Space-Enhancing Charm on the whole thing.

In the corner was a white cabinet and changing table. Buying everything had made Hermione realize just how much work a baby could be. She was hoping that whatever she didn't learn from books, and she had tried to learn it all, she would have help from Blaise and her friends.

All of her acquaintances knew now and they had spent the weeks after the article receiving all sorts of mail. Some had been congratulatory, and others not so much. Hermione had ignored all the unpleasant mail and simply tossed it in the fire.

She had received a letter from the office congratulating her and telling her that she was entitled to several months off after the baby was born. Hermione felt grateful, but knew that she would return to work not too long after. She had no desire to become a stay-at-home mum.

Blaise was still getting the cold shoulder from Isabella, but he didn't seem too upset. In fact, Hermione thought he was rather happy to be left alone without her "advice" constantly in his ear.

Their relationship seemed to be improving by the day, even with Hermione's mood swings. She was growing tired of being pregnant. Her back hurt and it was becoming increasingly difficult to stand up from chairs.

Standing in the doorway to the room, she didn't hear Blaise come up behind her. Without a word, he slid an arm over her shoulder. She glanced at him and smiled.

"It's December," she said. "Only a month, now."

"Are you ready?" Blaise asked.

She looked down at her stomach, thinking. "I guess it doesn't matter. We're here now."

Blaise shrugged. "I think we are."

"Really?" Hermione asked skeptically. "We've done everything to prepare? We're ready for a crying baby? Getting up in the middle of the night? Not sleeping for days on end? Worrying about a kid for the rest of our lives?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Okay, so we're not completely prepared, but I think we'll do alright. We've made it this far."

"I suppose that's true," Hermione agreed. She turned from the room and wandered back into the bedroom.

She was walking towards the bed when it happened. A crimping pain ran through her stomach and she stopped walking, her hand flying to her stomach.

Blaise, who's just turned, saw this and asked, "Are you okay?"

"I think so," Hermione said, then bent over again as the same feeling swept over her. "Ouch!"

"What's wrong?" Blaise asked quickly, moving over to her.

Hermione was staring at the floor, looking shocked. Looking up at Blaise, her face frightened. "My water just broke," she whispered.

Blaise just stared at her, unable to speak it seemed. Hermione, on the other hand, had more than enough to say for both of them.

"Blaise!" she said. "I-I'm not ready! It's only December! It's too early! What do we do?"

When Blaise didn't respond, she grabbed his arm. Only then, did he jump back. "Oh shit," he cursed. "It's not January!"

"I know!" Hermione cried. She looked around frantically. She wasn't ready for the baby to come now. She hadn't packed anything.

Blaise had regained his head, it seemed. He grabbed Hermione's arm as she had another contraction.

"We're going to St. Mungo's," he said, leading her into the sitting room.

"But, no!" Hermione said. "It's only December!"

"I know," he said calmly, grabbing her coat and taking her outside. From there, he summoned a broom and sat her on it. They had decided it was the fastest way to get there since she couldn't Apparate.

Hermione didn't look pleased. "Blaise, about this broom thing, I don't know if it's the sa—ouch!" She came up breathing harder than before and Blaise swung on the broom in front of her.

"We're going this way and that's that." With a whoosh, they took off into the sky, the cold air whipping their faces.

Hermione was not happy on the back of the broom, but knew it was her only choice unless she decided to have the baby at home, and she simply refused that. She cast a Warming Charm on herself halfway through the ride to keep the cold wind from whipping at her skin.

Soon, they were touching down in a deserted alleyway in London. Blaise helped Hermione off the broom and shrunk it, placing it in his pocket. Carefully, they made their way to the entrance of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

"Blaise," Hermione said as they passed through the cool glass to the entrance inside. "I'm not ready. I don't want to have this baby. I can't!"

"It'll be fine," he said soothingly, though inside his heart was doing the conga around his ribcage. He sat her in a chair and went to the nurse.

"We sent an owl ahead, Hermione, she's going into labor," he told the woman at the station.

"Through that door," the woman said in a bored voice, "and fill this out." She handed him a bunch of papers. Miffed, Blaise returned to Hermione and took her through the door the woman had indicated.

Once inside, Hermione was taken to a private room. As she was being led away, she seized Blaise's arm. "Don't you dare leave me," she said seriously. "We have to owl Harry, and Ron, and my parents! Blaise, there's so much to do! I'm not ready!"

Blaise followed along, riffling through the papers. "We're fine," he said, trying to believe it. He couldn't believe it was happening so early. The Healer had said it wouldn't be for another three weeks.

Hermione was taken into a room and set on a bed. Blaise could hear her contractions getting worse and as they did so, so did her voicings.

After one particularly long contraction, she wasn't feeling very good. "Blaise," she said through labored breaths. "Why did you have to sleep with me? Why couldn't you leave well enough alone? Oh!" She leaned forward and closed her eyes as another wave of pain came over her. Panting, she leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "Why?" she whined. "I don't want a Muggle birth," she said. "I want potions, lots and lots of potions. Blaise, get me potions."

Blaise just nodded his head and continued filling out the forms. He'd already sent a message to Harry, Ron, and Hermione's parents. Harry had said he would come as soon as he could. Blaise imagined Hermione's parents were on their way as well.

"Ooooh," Hermione moaned as another pang hit her. She came back panting, violently wishing she had not gotten pregnant in the first place.

"Feeling okay?" Blaise asked lightly.

"No," Hermione huffed, pushing herself up on the bed. "I am not feeling alright. Where is Harry? Where is my mother? Did you tell them?"

"Yes, I told them," Blaise said. He was determined to remain calm despite Hermione's increasing panic as the time grew nearer.

"Ow!" Hermione gasped, clutching her stomach.

"Breath, Hermione," Blaise said, standing up and going to her side. He did a few breaths with her and she calmed down, but she was still breathing harder than normal.

"I want it done!" she said. "Where is the Healer? Can't they do magic and get it out?"

"Of all the books you read, you didn't see that it isn't possible?" Blaise asked, raising his eyebrows. He would have expected Hermione to know this.

"Of course I did," she snapped. She wasn't feeling much up to making conversation. "But I still don't see why not."

Blaise decided that it was better to remain silent at this point and luckily, Harry showed up minutes later.

He burst into the room, running to Hermione's bedside. "Hermione! How are you feeling?"

"Oh, fine," she said. "As good as I can be with a baby trying to get out of my body!"

Harry paused and turned to Blaise. "A bit emotional, is she?"

Blaise merely nodded while Hermione became indignant.

"You would be emotional too if you were forced to give birth. It's no picnic over here, and what took you so long?!"

Harry sent another nervous glance at Blaise. Dealing with an emotional Hermione had never been his strong suit.

"I was at work," he said. "There was an escape at Azkaban and the man set a fire down the street and—"

"I didn't ask for a novel," Hermione interrupted, sounding annoyed.

Harry just sighed and didn't say anymore. He ran to Hermione's side at a contraction, Blaise on her other, coaching her through it.

After several, Harry would be hard-pressed to say that Blaise didn't care about her. He was attentive and calm and listened to her inordinate demands.

Hermione's parents arrived soon after Harry. Her mother ran into the room, hugging Hermione to her.

"Hermione, dear, how are you doing? Just remember to breathe and everything will be fine."

Hermione's father hung back by the door, but his eyes were on Blaise. Blaise seemed to know he was being watched and looked up to find John Granger watching him closely. Deciding it would be best to get the unpleasantness with over, he walked up to him and held out his hand.

"Mr. Granger," he said. "It's a pleasure to see you again. I assure you your daughter is in good hands."

"Do you love her?" Mr. Granger asked. Jane Granger's eyes turned to Blaise as her husband asked this question. Even Harry looked up, as though wanting to hear the answer again.

"Yes," Blaise said, "sir," he added, feeling formality was best in this situation.

Hermione drew the focus from Blaise with another cry of pain as a contraction went through her body. Her mother immediately rounded on her, whispering encouraging, calming words. Blaise withdrew from Hermione's father and went back to his position beside Hermione.

Half an hour later, the contractions were coming closer together and with each one, Hermione became less and less pleased.

"Blaise," she growled after a particularly long one, "Why did you do this to me?"

"Just relax," he said. "Have some ice chips."

"I don't want any ice chips!" Hermione said angrily, pushing them away. "I want to go home."

"You can't go home," he said calmly. "You have to have the baby."

"I don't want to!" she exclaimed, her voice wavering. "I just want to go home. Blaise, please, I can't do this."

"You can," he said, grabbing her hand. The Grangers had left to find some tea and Harry was sending messages to the Weasley family. Ron still had not arrived. "Hermione, I know this is hard, but of all the things you've ever done, this is the most amazing. You can do anything."

"Do you have to be so sappy?" Hermione asked, starting to cry.

Blaise just smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "It's part of my job as the supportive boyfriend."

Just then, the Healer bustled in. A stout woman with a cheery smile, she greeted them happily.

Hermione barely had time to say hello before another contraction hit. "Is this ever going to end?" she panted.

"Oh, of course, dearie," the woman smiled. She took out her wand and waved it over Hermione. "Not too long now."

"God," Hermione moaned, letting her head fall back against the pillow. "Ouch!" she exclaimed as another contraction came. "Blaise," she panted. "I hate you. I hate you for doing this to me!"

"Don't worry, dear," the Healer said to Blaise. "They all say that. She'll be happy once it's all over." She smiled nicely at Blaise, who didn't look too reassured.

"Oh sure I will," Hermione said waspishly as the woman flitted around checking things. "It'll be all rainbows and butterflies when this is all over."

Blaise knew better than to reply. Instead, he merely shrugged and waited.

"Well, sweet pea," the Healer said, "looks like it's about time to take you into the delivery room."

"What?!" Hermione asked. "But I'm not ready! Blaise, tell her I'm not ready!"

"Hermione," he said, giving her a tired look. "You have to."

"I can—oooh," she moaned as she bent forward through another contraction. When it was over, she seemed to have changed her mind. "I was wrong," she said. "Get it out, get it out." She was gripping the edge of her bed so tightly her knuckles turned white.

The Healer didn't seem all that concerned with time, in Hermione's opinion. She magicked her onto a stretcher and wheeled her down to another room that was full of ticking and magically controlled monitors.

Hermione barely had time to think as he contractions came now more painfully and longer than before.

"Blaise," she cried, "I don't hate you, I just—ahhh!" She was never having another child again, ever, she decided, ever.

Blaise grabbed her hand, whispering encouraging words in her ear. She didn't appear to hear him as she panted and moaned.

"Make it stop!" she moaned.

The Healer moved around her, making movements with her wand and muttering spells under her breath. Blaise wondered just how long it was going to take.

"How much longer?" he asked.

"Oh, as long as it takes," the Healer said. Hermione groaned and Blaise sighed, thinking that maybe he should go find some tea.

OoOoO

"Say hello," the Healer said, "to your new son." She handed Hermione a perfect baby wrapped in a clean blue towel.

Staring down at the baby, that made an indistinguishable noise, Hermione began to cry for what felt like the hundredth time that night. This time, though, it was in happiness as she looked down at her and Blaise's son.

Blaise moved over to look at the baby and smiled. It seemed like a long time ago Hermione had been yelling at him in her flat that this was his fault. Now, though, he would gladly take responsibility for what had come out of it.

"So what's the little fellow's name?" the Healer asked as she bustled around cleaning up things.

"Kaiser," Hermione said softly. "Kaiser Zabini-Granger."

The Healer just smiled and left the room for a moment. Blaise ran a finger over the child's porcelain skin and smiled happily.

"Now," he said. "Aren't you glad I came back?"

Hermione laughed and Blaise leaned down and kissed her. Then he pulled his chair closer to her bed and settled in to watch Kaiser in Hermione's arms.

Suddenly, a crash sounded outside their door and seconds later the door flew open.

"Hermione!" Ron burst into the room. "Did I miss it? I tried to come sooner, but I got stuck at work and then mum wanted to know what was going on!"

"It's okay, Ron," Hermione said. "It's over, but you didn't miss anything. Come say hello to Kaiser."

Ron came over carefully, as though fearing any sound would scare the baby. "Whoa," he breathed as he peered over the blanket at Kaiser.

The baby was small and had just a tiny bit of dark hair on the top of his head. His eyes were blue, like all newborns, and he stared up at Ron with wide eyes.

"That's amazing," Ron said.

Hermione smiled and looked at Blaise. "Yeah, it is."

* * *

A/N: There's one more chapter left, just so's you know :]


	24. Epilogue

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Kaiser, happy birthday to you!"

Hermione levitated a cake shaped like a book in front of the giggling two-year old. It was December 13th and Kaiser Zabini's second birthday.

"A little early for subliminal messages, don't you think?" said Blaise as he slipped an arm around his wife's waist.

Hermione merely gave him quelling look. "It's never too early to start learning."

Nevertheless, she smiled when Blaise kissed her cheek and cut a piece of cake for their son. She and Blaise had been married nearly a year and a half now and Hermione couldn't remember being happier.

Kaiser was growing quickly, a fast learner, and was loved by everyone. It seemed they had a constant stream of visitors to see him.

Hermione watched Kaiser making a mess with his cake, smearing it over his plate and face, and smiled. It seemed only yesterday that she had been telling Blaise she hated him for getting her pregnant. Now, though, she thought the complete opposite.

Initially, after his birth, it had been difficult. There was no way they had been completely prepared for a child, no one ever was. It had been quite the learning experience but Hermione was glad for it.

She had asked Harry to be the Godfather and he had graciously accepted. He and Padma had gotten married not too long after Hermione and Blaise and Padma seemed to be expecting her first child.

Ron and Mandy had also married just a month after Kaiser's birth. It had been a lovely ceremony and Hermione was truly glad for them.

As for Isabella, she had remained angry with Blaise for several months, but unable to keep away from the grandson she always wanted, had reluctantly come to forgive him, and even make nice with Hermione. She fawned over Kaiser, giving him lavish gifts that Hermione hid. She didn't want him to become spoiled.

Blaise watched Kaiser smearing the icing over his plate and then licking it off his fingers, thinking that he was glad he'd kept his promise to help Hermione. It had taken awhile for him to realize his true feelings, but in the end, he had. Kaiser was a great kid and he couldn't wait to see him grow up.

He sat down with Hermione at the table. "My lovely wife," he said.

"Yes?" Hermione asked.

"It's been three years."

"I know," Hermione said, glancing at him.

Blaise smiled and leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to her lips and placing his hand on her stomach. "Maybe this one'll be a girl."

Hermione glanced down and smiled. She was four months pregnant for the second time, although this time, it had been planned. She and Blaise had decided that they wanted Kaiser to have a sibling rather than be an only child. Hermione was convinced it would help his development.

She still read every book she could get her hands on about child development, although as Blaise said, you couldn't learn everything from a book.

She had realized that a while ago, but that didn't mean she didn't try. At the Ministry, she spent a lot of time buried in books, even though it wasn't a necessary part of her job anymore.

After the baby was born, she had returned to work like she had planned, determined not to let a baby affect her career. She had found it was easier than she thought to juggle work and a child, and so had advanced in her career. She was now one of the judges in the Ministry and handled some of the more difficult cases.

She was happy that she'd been able to advance in her career while being a mother.

"Mummy!" Kaiser cried happily, his face smeared with cake. Hermione laughed and attempted to wipe his face off. He merely pushed her hand away, grinning.

Hermione shook her head. "Becoming like your father, aren't you?"

"Hey," Blaise objected. "I resent that. If anything, he's like you."

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked at Kaiser. He had inherited her dark brown hair, but it wasn't bushy, thankfully. His eyes were a vivid blue, just like his father. Hermione was glad at least that he hadn't inherited her teeth.

"He's like both of us," Hermione said finally, running her hands through Kaiser's hair. The toddler merely giggled.

"We'll see when he gets to school," Blaise said simply. "He's definitely a Slytherin."

"Is not," Hermione argued. "He's a Gryffindor."

"Gryffindork, you mean."

"Watch it," Hermione warned.

Blaise just laughed. "Maybe he's a Hufflepuff."

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. Blaise had the oddest sense of humor. She picked up her fork and began to eat her cake.

"Hermione?" Blaise said.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Hermione put down her fork and looked at Blaise. He was holding a blue velvet box out. Confused, Hermione took it, opening it slowly.

"Blaise," she breathed as she gazed down at the silver necklace with a single drop diamond hanging off it. "Why did you…"

"I thought you deserved something special," he said, taking it out of the box and putting it around her neck. "Today's special."

Hermione fingered the jewel, then looked at Blaise and smiled. "It's amazing, and so are you."

Blaise's hand ran up Hermione's neck, pulling her closer into a long kiss. Beside them, Kaiser laughed happily. Hermione kissed Blaise back with equal force, only pulling back when it seemed they had to.

"I love you too, Blaise," she said. Then she glanced at Kaiser. "And you, of course, Kaiser."

Kaiser just laughed, throwing cake at his plate while Blaise and Hermione laughed also.

* * *

FIN

A/N: It's OVER! finally. God, that took forever. In case you're wondering, there is a sequel, but it's more like a spin-off involving Kaiser about 15 years from this epilogue. It's also slash, so... if it's not your cup of tea, I'm glad you enjoyed this one at least! Thanks to everyone who has stuck around.


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